By Rachel Hoeing

So the other week I was watching Big Brother (yes, Big Brother – don’t hate, don’t judge) and one of my favorite players was talking to the camera in the Diary Room. Ragan is his name and he is hilarious! Anyway, he was talking about an event that happened in the Big Brother House and exclaimed, “I was crying like a 40-year-old woman watching Oprah!” I started laughing and then suddenly stopped. Silence. Holy cow. He is talking about ME! I am the 40-year-old woman who cries watching Oprah!

Granted, I am a few years shy of being forty, and I may not be crying over Oprah, but I will admit to many a tear over a lame commercial, Lifetime Movie, Extreme Home Makeover, or even Nanny McPhee. When did this happen? When did I turn into this woman? Wasn’t it just yesterday when I was 21 and dancing on the bar at “Have A Nice Day Café” in Charlotte without a care in the world? Now I cry when I see my children holding hands as they walk out of school. I cry when I see someone help an old man who they don’t know.

But, as I thought about this and the fact that I have seemed to race through the past fifteen years of my life, I realized, I am pretty proud to be the mom and woman that I am. I like my life when I get to put on my pajamas at 8pm and not think twice about it. I like the fact that snuggling in bed with my family can be a highlight of my day. And I like that I am certainly in touch with my emotions. So after initially hearing Ragan’s comment and feeling like a washed up old hag, I can now say to myself, “Yes, I AM that almost forty-year-old woman who cries watching Oprah! And I am damn proud of it, too!”