The word quit gets a bad rap. The mere thought of quitting makes some folks break out in hives. You know QUITTERS NEVER WIN AND WINNERS NEVER QUIT and so on and so forth. Well, I’m here in defense of the quitters. I’m here to say I’m a quitter and quitters do quit and are quite proud of it thank you very much.
Today would’ve been my 19th wedding anniversary to my ex-husband had I not quit that marriage. Man, am I thankful I’m a quitter. I sent a note to my perfect angel of a current husband (our love story here) gushing about how today marks that anniversary of what could have been and how overjoyed I am that it’s not. I wouldn’t have this life beyond my wildest dreams had I not quit. I cannot imagine what my life would look like today had I stayed.
I’ve quit booze, smokes and anti-anxiety/depression medications. That last one happened while I was going through infertility and trying to conceive and while it was working for a while, I’m seriously thinking of getting back on them because WOOF. It’s rough out there. And in here (points at head).
I’ve quit toxic friends and relationships and jobs and waistbands and self loathing.
I’ve quit eating animals and I’ve also quit feeling like I need to tell everybody what they should and shouldn’t do. It never works anyway, so why waste the hot air. Who the hell do I think I am anyway?
I’ve quit thinking I know anything about what is best for anybody, hell, I hardly know what is best for myself and my own kids.
I’ve quit thinking I’m better or worse off than other people, I just am who I am. Especially with women. And have I ever been gifted with some stupendous women in my life because of it.
I’ve quit casting disparaging thoughts, wishes, judgments on people and am a hell of a lot better off for it in my heart of hearts.
I’ve quit taking shots at religion or crocs or capri pants or even pumpkin spice everything along with any of the things I used to make fun of because it somehow made me feel better momentarily – in the end it just made me feel shitty to make other people feel shitty.
I’ve quit trying to win – hell even participate in – every argument I’m invited to.
I’ve quit trying to fit into a mold that was broken from the start and one that I would never squeeze into anyway. Hell, I made a new mold.
I quit believing I wasn’t worthy of joy and happiness and belonging in this world because of my past.
I quit apologizing for every damn thing and just owned my truth without having to explain it so much.
I quit having to say words after the word “NO”.
I quit looking for everything that’s terrible (because let’s face it, that’s easy enough to find) and actively seek out what and who is good.
My friend Samantha says, “QUITTING IS THE ONLY THING WORTH GETTING RIGHT” and I must say I agree.
My friend Amelia said, “The ability to distinguish what’s worthy of persevering in and what’s best walked away from is one of the best gifts of aging.” I’d heard that wisdom comes with age, and I’ll be damned if it’s not coming true in these fuck-it-forties.
Perseverance is great and all, but many times the best thing we can do is quit and start something new. At times it’s the most liberating thing in the world to burn this shit to the ground and start all over again.
I feel no shame and no guilt about all I’ve quit. Quite the opposite actually. I’m filled with pride about my spectacular quitting abilities! I am so proud of you quitters!
What does a whore look like?
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