baggage claim 

Being at an age now where I have friends hooking up with “life partners” but also friends who are breaking up with “life partners” settling into life after marriage or partners, I’ve thought a lot lately about the term “baggage” 
Recently I was privy to a conversation where a friend insinuated that another friend may have a hard time finding a new lover due to all of her “baggage” 

Well not surprisingly, I’m gonna challenge the shit out of that. 
What is baggage? Kids? A crazy ex? A mortgage? Herpes? A psycho side? I mean what he fuck is with the term baggage? 
Is somebody who lacks a past more desirable then someone who has loved in life? Or lived in life? Or created life?
In fact, I wouldn’t trust anyone that doesn’t come with a decent amount of baggage. If you’ve never loved anyone or taken a risk or left a relationship that wasn’t making you happy or had your sorry arse dumped and left for dead then where on earth have you been? Living in a god dam igloo? Cold much? 
Some of these igloo dwelling coldies are lucky I’m not single coz Id love to hear them call one of my 4 babies baggage?!?!! 👊🏼 
I guess the probability that there are women out there, brave heroic queens who have taken the stance to leave a shitty relationship or an abusive relationship and are met with a fear of this baggage bullshit just snaps my heart in half 💔
I want them to know that baggage isn’t real. 
Baggage just sounds so heavy, like a big fat pile of your past that drags you down at every turn, we should really call it luggage, hand luggage, hand luggage that you don’t have to hold, it just floats glamorously around you, stroking your hair and telling you you look hot. 

Luggage gives you warmth, luggage is colourful, luggage gives you wisdom and makes you who you are, a loveable and well loved, flexible, continually growing human. How human is that? 

How amazing are you? 


6 thoughts on “baggage claim ”

  1. I just love how you take these negative terms and just beat the hell out of them! 😂
    You’re so right! My husband and I separated just 2 yrs after the birth of our son. I mistakingly got into another relationship almost right away for fear my “baggage” would scare any half decent man far from me. I didn’t love the person I got with but due to economic reasons I accepted living together. It was my way to just ignore and not face the marriage I had run away from. Many times during his new relationship I felt this want to clear things up with my ex and I admit that I still had song feelings for him. Afterall, we created this crazy amazing human being together. We saw each other at least twice a week and lived in the same small Italian town. But I was scared. To change. To leave another relationship. To put my heart on the line again with my ex. And most importantly, what about my son???
    As the yrs passed I realised that living with it love was not worth it. It wasn’t worth economic comfort. It wasn’t worth the nice house. It wasn’t worth having to share a house with a person that I just didn’t want to see anymore. I loved my baby but he was being raised in a home without harmony and love. So, with a little help from my friends and rebuilding my self-confidence I made the decision to leave. 6 more months of living together was hell but it would end.
    I found a tiny new apartment and started packing. My “baggage”, I discovered, was not my unlucky past with men, or that I was soon to be a thirtysomething single mom living in a foreign country with a 10 yr old “behaviour troubled” child living on 1 (shitty) income. No, my so-called “baggage” is what I was liberating myself of! A man who had an amazingly talented and beautiful woman but only knew how to try and control her with money. Superfluous “stuff” that filled too many boxes to be kept in our new mini apartment and so, given away. To charity. To the dump. To where ever just as long as it wasn’t with me anymore. I was no longer a slave to anyone or anything.
    And being (en)lightened, all I needed was indeed “hand luggage”. The most beautiful and intelligently rebellious son anyone could ever dream to be gifted, the best kitty in the whole world and the combination of our incredible strengths that when united, we could scale mountains and you can bet your ass that we’ve the scars and the war stories to prove it. THAT is what makes us so fucking special. THAT is what people are attracted to us for. We have a history. We have individuality. WE ARE STRONG!

    And Constance, I would like to thank you so damned much for reminding me of that by sharing your thoughts about it in your post. ❤


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