Let's Get Started: The Intro 🖤

How I got here — told without self-pity and with appropriate dark humor.

This blog contains explicit language.

Let me paint you a picture.

It is 6:47 in the morning. My continuous glucose monitor is alarming because my blood sugar decided to spike overnight for reasons that remain, as usual, completely mysterious. The dogs are making noise that means either they are hungry or one of them has to go out. I have coffee brewing, a seemingly dead tomato plant I am determined to resurrect, and a good morning text from my significantly younger boyfriend which is, objectively, the most wholesome thing that starts my day and is also deeply confusing given that three years ago I was crying over a failed marriage and genuinely wondering if the second half of my life was going to be something I survived or something I actually got to live.

This adventure does not start in a tidy, inspirational, before-and-after kind of way. It’s more of a one hand on the insulin pump, other hand in the garden, dogs with muddy paws, something is on fire but it might be dinner kind of way.

That's what this is. That's what this has always been.

I'm Lily, and I’m attempting an urban homestead, which is a dignified word for a situation that includes raised beds I put together, herbs I cannot always identify, animals with more personality than most people I've met, and a freezer full of things I preserved in a burst of late-summer ambition and will absolutely eat this winter. I'm a Type 1 Diabetic who works out, which means I have a complicated and ongoing relationship with carbohydrates, exercise, and the particular humiliation of occasionally needing fruit snacks mid-deadlift. I'm an empty nester, which I was told would feel like loss and mostly feels like I can finally hear myself think, though I will say that sometimes at 2 am the quiet gets very loud. I'm divorced, which sometimes used to feel like failure, but now feels like the best edit I ever made. And I'm in a relationship with someone who is younger than me by a margin that the internet has extensive opinions about and that I find funny (most of the time).

The Short Version of the Breakup

I wrote a blog called Handling the Heartbreak that focuses more on the split. He left me for a younger woman, and while I was devastated back then, two and a half years of healing confirmed what my family and his people were telling me but I didn’t consider until it was over: I was always out of his league. The ugly truth I realized about myself was that at the time I picked the relationship I thought I deserved. Side note and this is also incredibly petty… I was really in my feelings about the fact that his new supply was younger until I saw her (Think “B.S.” by Jhene Aiko/H.E.R., “I just seen your new b*tch, it boost my self-esteem”). I’ll talk about life after divorce, and may occasionally mention a few anecdotes, but I’m not focusing on the relationships. I’ve got my sight set on what came after. The falling apart, rebuilding, back-pedaling, refocusing, forging forward, and remembering who I am and who I’m becoming. Because let’s be real, starting over in your 40s is messy, slightly terrifying, and at times feels like a gut punch you may never recover from.

The Empty Nest

The last little bird took off in 2024, circled for a bit, and landed back in the nest. It’s very different this time around, and she won’t be here much longer so I’m preparing for the quiet again. The timing of the split and the kids leaving was pretty interesting; sitting with my thoughts and the pain of my failed marriage was sometimes deafening. I’ve fine-tuned dancing in my kitchen with the dogs, painting more, making/baking many things from scratch, and it’s where the planting was kicked into high gear. It was also so peaceful not having to walk on eggshells, listen to the complaints, or wonder what might cause the tantrums that came more often than a man in his mid-fifties should have. Just me and my dogs in my insanely clean house watching horror movies or listening to cello concertos just because. I’ll talk about the empty nest from my perspective, but in podcast episodes you might hear one or all of my kids jumping in to give their insight as well. Let me brag a bit: they’ve taken what I’ve given them and far surpassed me. Better doesn’t begin to accurately describe it. I’m proud of all of them, but also of us. We’ve been through some shit together. The tribe is strong.

Fitness with Complications

Working out when your body has other plans is sometimes really annoying. For the longest time, I only worked out at home. I did yoga and pilates, but also ran on my treadmill and kept up with doing the burpees I used to do with my ex. I got to a point where I determined that I wanted to weight train but I needed someone to push me past the limits I knew I’d place upon myself. But here’s the thing… If you couldn’t tell, I’m kind of a pain in the ass. Add Type I Diabetes to the mix, and it’s hard to find the right fit in a personal trainer. The Universe dropped exactly who I needed into my orbit. We’ll explore what I’m working on, what I’m working toward, and how I’m managing my illness. A continuous glucose monitor (CGM) is sometimes an annoying gym partner. Podcast episodes will occasionally feature my bomb ass trainer and we’ll talk about fitness and other things. The takeaway is it will definitely be entertaining.

The Unexpected Age Gap Relationship

While we’re mentioning the Universe’s impeccable timing, let’s talk about the other amazing human who was dropped into my orbit. I very briefly tried to date (that’s going to be fun to talk about, and oh boy are we going to get into it) but decided that it wasn’t for me. I made the decision to remain on my own because, let’s face it, I know who and what I am, and I also know that it would take a hell of a person to volunteer to jump into my chaos. Many have tried, no one has the fortitude, and I really love peaceful solitude. BUT THEN out of nowhere, in walks a man who put in more effort in the first week I knew him than anyone I’ve ever been in a relationship with, no exaggeration. Hold on a sec, I’m not describing this properly, let me give this man the credit he deserves. It was healthy effort; no lovebombing, no breadcrumbing, no bullshit. He knew what he wanted, he communicated how he felt and he didn’t speak in obscurities. I was floored. We have a few interesting differences though. It doesn’t matter to us, but it’s apparently of interest to others considering the looks we get; he’s 16 inches taller than me. That will result in some funny reels and videos, and he might make an occasional podcast appearance. But here’s what I struggled with the most: he’s 12 years younger than me. This shouldn’t work, right? Wrong. What he brings has nothing to do with age. He gives me things I didn’t even realize I needed. The age gap is only part of our story, as you’ll find out, we are so much more.

This blog is where all of that lives. The life-after-divorce stuff, the fitness stuff, the homesteading stuff, the managing-a-chronic-illness-without-losing-your-mind stuff, the what-happens-when-your-kids-leave-and-you-discover-you're-still-a-whole-person stuff, the gorgeous-younger-man-who-matches-your-vibe-and-makes-you-feel-safe stuff. I will write about all of it. Honestly, specifically, and with the kind of dark humor that is either a coping mechanism or a personality trait at this point; I genuinely cannot tell anymore and I've stopped trying to figure it out. At least I’m entertaining.

If you're looking for a wellness blog with a 12-step morning routine and a green smoothie recipe, I am not your person. If you're looking for someone who will talk about starting over with an edge, pull up a chair.

And, what the hell, I’ll throw in a few recipes here and there. Here’s to a diabetic diet and going on this journey together.