whole part 1

I grew at 43. Literally. Mid-March 2025, I shot up from 165cm to 170—maybe 171. Yup. I’d always wanted to be tall. Somehow, I just knew it was in me. But, of course, my back had other plans—twisting into a Formula 1 track, taking the scenic, chaotic, nonlinear route to get there. My spine… the perfect metaphor for my life. I’m an early 80s baby, finally arriving into herself. Who would’ve guessed? I thought I’d missed the deadline—like I was supposed to have it all figured out by 20. I was the smart one. The gifted kid. Books were my refuge. And when that bright girl stopped shining so brightly, books became my hiding place too. If only I knew then what I understand now. Me. ADHD. Yeah. It explains so much. That diagnosis? A strange mix of comfort and grief. Relief, yes. But also heartbreak. So many years wondering why my potential and my reality never shook hands. Why I could sense something inside me… but couldn’t access it. I thought willing it would be enough. Trying, even a little. But somehow, every time, I’d freeze. Lock up. Stall. Drown Procrastinate. Dissolve in skin hoping to be held together….. Resilience held me together. The hope for brighter days. This wannabe artist—hard to get—still managed to win the prize. I gave him a chance, and we got married. Me? A mother? Seven times over. Seven!! Anyone who really knew the younger version of me would’ve never put their money on that. I pictured a bohemian life, designing clothes, sketching shoes, floating between cities and feelings. Probably tangled up in complicated love stories, half-written endings, and beautiful messes. Chaos. That’s always been my language. My comfort zone. So how did this happen? I live in the rhythm of suburban days, stay-at-home mom routines. But inside? There’s the demon of midlife « le démon du midi » the one they whisper about. The one that rides in on raging hormones, laced with PMDD, emotional hurricanes, and a deep, unsettling hunger for chaos. My brain, deprived, wired for disorder, rebels against the stillness. Against repetition. It wants to erupt. To flip the table. To feel alive.