Past Perfect. No Longer Tense.

I felt a hand cup my right tush cheek. One eyebrow cocked, I turned my head slowly in the direction of the rogue extremity. A boy in a t-shirt with spray painted words on it smiled creepily and grabbed my hand. He lifted my arm as if it was part of some mechanism that precipitated dance moves from the rest of my body. I shook my head (not gonna happen, dude). The music was too loud for him to hear the slicing words that I wanted to say. Through the laser lights, I saw he made a face. A stupid expression. As if to say, “Awwww, come on...”

I stared, one eyebrow probably still at attention. He didn't leave. I waved him closer so I could yell in his ear. “Strict rule.” I pushed the words from my diaphragm. “Oh yeah? What's that?” He said all drunk, sexy like. “I don't dance with guys in t-shirts with words. And I don't dance with ass holes. ...You're two for two, My Friend. Back the f*ck up.” I turned to my girlfriend. “I am too old for this shit!” I screamed in her direction. Drunk boys slammed into me. Girls in half tops giggled. Bud light was sloshed across my dress. I was the 29 year old sore thumb in the middle of the bumpin' club.

My Best Becca and Me. Friends since 6th grade.

“I can't hang like I used to” became the quote of the Bachelorette weekend. It was painfully evident that we aren't in our early 20's anymore. We cut our limo time short by 2 hours, I snacked on baby carrots and freeze dried peas, the bride was borderline narcoleptic passing out any time she was seated, and at one point my other friend was fighting back tears while skyping with her 6 month old son... Folks. Times have changed.

So after coming to terms with our age and inability to “hang,” the last night of the trip we fucked our dinner plans and stayed on the beach well past sunset. We toasted to my amazing best friend and told stories. We danced and jumped around like idiots. It was pretty perfect. Just what us old ladies needed.

Who needs a club?

All the girls out to celebrate the Bride.

It was an interesting weekend for me. I was the only single girl on the Bachelorette trip, then add the Yankee factor and the health freak tendencies and it was a perfect storm of ridiculous. I felt a little like a leper in a beauty contest. And all the wedding hoopla and couple talk kind of got to me. It sparked a whole slew of emotions and trains of thought that left the station for far off places. But not in the way one would think.

I mean, I always assumed that I would get married. Never really gave it much thought, it just was what I expected. But, anyone that's dated me in the past couple years can tell you that at the mention of the word “commitment,” I break into a cold sweat like George Bush in a spelling bee. Recently someone asked me in regard to my aversion, “what are you so afraid of?” I couldn't articulate it exactly at the time, but this past weekend opened my eyes to the intricacies of my fears. Bear with me -

Seeing the lives girls my age back home are starting all sorts of freaked me out. They have the houses and the yards and the paid vacation days. And I mean, it seems to work really well for them. ...but...For some reason, it simply doesn't appeal to me. I have no interest in talking about registries, and china, and houses, and babies, and school systems, and breast pumps. Holy. Anxiety attack.

Secondly, there's my independence. I have been through some shit in the past years, y'all (just go back in blog-time and do some reading). And bravery's been building within me. The older I get, and the more I deal with, the less reliant I am on others. I get through the messes, generally coming out of them with a smile (after I wipe the tears and subsequent badassery off my face). I've done a ton of inward work recently and I don't want to lose the independence that I've tried so hard to cultivate.

And I'm afraid of becoming content. I've never been in a relationship that propelled me forward to do all of the things that I want to do. They've always been about settling in.

BUT here's the kicker: This trip I realized that I think I can make my own version. As my Mom reminded me in the car when she picked me up after I got back to Atlanta and told her how I was feeling, “You've always felt that way,” she said. “So, you make the life you want. Just like you always have.” And she's right. Hell, it's why I moved to NY in the first place. I've applied this sentiment in my professional life with Acting and The Wellness Project, why not apply it to my personal life? I can have whatever the hell I wanna have. I can get married (EVENTUALLY, let's not get crazy) and I don't have to talk about registries, and china, and houses, and babies, and school systems, and breast pumps.

Whew! What a relief. This has been a major cause of anxiety within me recently. From my Brother pretty much telling me that he thought I was never going to get married, to my other single friend's mother asking her to freeze her eggs (oy vey), the concern has been growing, People. Not that I won't get married, but that I don't WANT to get married. But I think it's up to me to set my own terms. Write my own story. ...or blog. That's assuming that I ever meet anyone on the same page and can pull my hot messy dating life together. But, Lord knows, that's a story for another day...

My assistant, Kid Mogul.

After the Bach Party weekend I was back in ATL for some quality Fun Aunt Sarah time and to hang with the Fam.

I also went to the 20^th anniversary of my old Dance Studio, Rhythm Dance Center.The alums came back to dance one more time on the stage together as a group. It was totally weird and nothing like it used to be. Once again, I was reminded of the passing of time. We used to walk on stage with insane confidence, ready to work. This time? ...we just didn't want to break a hip.

With my Dance Teachers and fellow RDC Alumni

But it was awesome to celebrate the empire that my role models growing up created. They built this incredible home for so many kids, where we were allowed to be creative and expressive. Where we developed life long friendships and learned invaluable lessons. As I begin to release my own business, TWP, into the world, they are once again my role models. Dedicated, passionate, smart women that built something of their own. I can only hope to experience some of the same successes they have.

I came back to NY excited as all hell to get to work on The Wellness Project. I met with Rachel my first morning back and had a killer work session. We talked future plans and possibilities. Goodness gracious, I am so freakin' excited for what's coming. I think we may be onto something truly amazing.

So while in my last post I was looking high and low for inspiration, at this moment in time I have found tons. From a Bachelorette weekend that opened my eyes to my own wishes for the future within my personal life, to a celebration of a business that changed my life so many years ago and opened my eyes to my hopes and wishes for the future of my professional life.

I've always said that I hate going backwards. But it turns out that maybe sometimes it's good to revisit the past. It's a great reminder of how I got this amazing gift of a present. And also to determine what it is, exactly, that I really want for my future.