These days, I have plenty of time to think. Sounds like an odd statement, but there was a period during my professional life that true thinking time was a luxury. You acted, reacted, managed crises, used your lizard brain wits, and ran as fast as you could. Didn't leave any time for introspection and leisurely pondering.
Now I think about many things. How life will play out as I age, who my real friends are and why, the best ways to build a comfortable nest, how to balance fun with more specific constructive pursuits, and how to be better.
We all have weaknesses and ways in which we disappoint ourselves. Perhaps we find what we think are valid reasons to stop developing emotionally. I want to try to be a better me. It's not easy.
I write to explore my feelings and find clarity in our little corner of existence. My success on that score is inconsistent. Optimistic, I'm going to keep trying.
Like me / don't like me. Know me / don't know me. Those that matter to me will make their own decisions, and I am very comfortable with that. I'm just me, but I'm only getting better.