Holding onto what is left

Of my youth that is....................

Yesterday I was changing and realized that my belly button ring was MIA. Who knows how long it has been gone or where it went. I have had this piece of metal for a long time and with every “stupid thing we do” there is a story that goes along with it. I have realized that this day was approaching (or may have already passed) and that I needed to part ways with this piece of my past. However, I wanted it to be on my own terms. It wasn’t like I wanted a ceremony or anything just a nice service…..ha ha ha I kid. I don’t know what I wanted…..I just wanted to do it when I was ready.

I tried to think of the positive and think that this might have been a sign of letting go. On the other hand I didn’t have time to “really think about it” (I don’t like change) and I didn’t know if I was ready to be just left with a scar. In its 9 years it has become a landmark on my belly. I know they are probably obsolete and I may be one of those people that just refuse to let go. I kept going back and forth….go get a new one…..let it be……go get a new one…….let it go. Then I remembered what my lovely, supportive, sweet, nice sister said about one of my golf pictures earlier in the day. It goes verbatim (insert valley girl voice) “OMG I'm freaking out. You look like a middle-aged housewife. Ah."

With that comment replaying in the back of my head, my mind was made up and I decided that this adamant object was my ticket to holding onto my youth. I hopped in my car and drove to Target accompanied by Andrew who was not shy of chiming in, “oh I am dating a teeny bopper.” Either way I am not approaching middle age without a darn good fight and if that means holding onto a belly button ring a little while longer….so be it!