The Shits I Stopped Giving

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to say farewell to all the things I stopped giving a shit about.  

This is a eulogy for constant paranoia about visible panty lines, unshaved body hair, and blemishes unobscured by makeup. I'll settle for intermittent paranoia, thanks. 

This is a eulogy for being self-conscious of my eating habits. As god as my witness, I'll never be afraid to eat dinner at 4 p.m. or make a random pastry run again. 

This is a eulogy for FOMO. No, hanging out in a packed bar with 28 of our closest friends does not sound fun to me. Life is too short to do "fun" things out of obligation. 

This is a eulogy for being too chicken to go places alone. No one cares. No one is judging me. Or maybe they are, but I don't care. 

This is a eulogy for toning down my inherent bossiness. Amy Poehler said she loves bossy women, so a proud bossy woman I shall be. 

This is a eulogy for obsessing about what everyone else is doing. "Doing me" is effort enough. 

This is a eulogy for trying. Not a eulogy for giving my all and doing my best, but a eulogy for a constant struggle and endless attempts to map out the milestones of my life before I've reached them. 

This is a eulogy for all the shits I used to give, for all the crap I've wasted years of my life caring about, for all the pointless anxiety, wasted energy, and squandered time. 

Now, let us celebrate letting that shit go.