Writing this, I suddenly realise that this has been almost a phobia with me ever since early adolescence. Are they talking about me behind my back? Why are they all looking at me like this? What will they say after I will have walked away?
Well, I’m embracing it. Let them talk, they will have plenty to talk about. I walk my own path, and I can’t be unconscious or indifferent to the fact that I’m being discussed; so I plan to enjoy it.
I may even adopt a very shabby-looking cat and walk around a night carrying an old broom (well, except for the cat part; and the broom, and I can’t be walking around at night until the kids have grown older). I’ll sew some very weird clothes for myself. Oo, the possibilities, this is going to be so much fun!