Letting Go of What I Don’t Care About Anymore

Recently, I had a conversation with someone who means a lot to me, someone I’m really close to. She’s wise beyond her years, and we always end up in those deep conversations… the kind that start simple and somehow turn into friendships, marriage, finances, and yes… politics.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, I had this thought.

I’m in my early 50s. I’m in menopause.

And there are just some things I don’t care about anymore.

Not in a bad way. Not in a careless way.

Just in a I’m not carrying that anymore kind of way.

There are things you can control.

There are things you can’t.

And there are things that just don’t deserve your energy every single day.

And I think I’m finally starting to understand the difference.

It doesn’t mean things aren’t important. Because they are. A lot of things are important. Big things. Real things. The kind of things people argue about and lose sleep over.

But at the same time… I just don’t give two shits about some of it anymore.

(And yes, that’s one of my favorite phrases. Right up there with busted can of biscuits.)

What I care about now feels… smaller. Simpler. But somehow more important.

I want to be around people I love.

I want to have conversations that matter—but also ones that make me laugh until I can’t breathe.

I don’t want everything to feel so heavy all the time.

I remember telling my daughter when she was in high school, you don’t need a huge group of friends. Not 50. Not even 20.

You just need a few people you can call at two in the morning when something falls apart.

That’s what matters.

And I think that’s where I am now.

I don’t need a lot.

I don’t want to carry everything.

I don’t want to be wound up about things I can’t control.

I just want to enjoy my days.

Enjoy the moment.

Enjoy my friends.

My family.

My grandkids.

I want to sit on the couch and laugh with my kids, who are now adults, and talk about nothing and everything at the same time.

I don’t want everything to feel so serious.

And maybe that’s what this season of life is.

Maybe it’s letting go of what doesn’t fit anymore.

At church a couple weeks ago, a pastor said something that stuck with me.

“Bitterness is not normal.”

I don’t even remember his name. He was new that day.

But those words have just stayed with me.

Because maybe that’s part of it too.

Maybe I’m realizing I don’t want to carry bitterness either.

Not toward people. Not toward situations. Not toward anything that’s already happened.

I don’t know.

I’m not sure I’m landing this perfectly.

But writing it out helps.

And maybe that’s enough for today.