55 and I went on an actual date last night. First one in about three years. I want to be honest about how I felt getting ready because I think some of you might get it. I stood in front of my wardrobe for forty minutes. Not because I had nothing to wear, I have plenty of things to wear. But nothing felt like me anymore. My body has shifted in the last eighteen months and I kept putting things on and taking them off and getting quietly furious with myself. In the end I wore a green wrap dress I bought on a whim last autumn and never wore because I thought I looked too round in it. And you know what, I do look rounder than I used to. That is just true. But I also looked, I don't know. Present? Like someone who was actually there and not hiding. He was nice. It was fine. Nothing romantic is happening but that isn't the point I'm making. The point is I got dressed without pretending I looked twenty years younger and I went anyway. And I came home and ate scrambled eggs at 10pm and felt genuinely okay about the whole evening. That is the win I'm logging. Not him. Me. x