Right after I hit that block button on Saturday morning, something shifted. The heavy energy evaporated. By choosing myself and refusing to tolerate a lack of effort, I had given my soul a massive green light. My energy didn't just return—it exploded.
So, I packed my bags and took the train down to Malmö.
My first stop was Scaniaplatsen, a beautiful spot by the water, where I spent several hours lost in the rhythm, dancing Salsa under the open sky. I felt alive. I felt aligned. But the universe wasn’t done testing my new frequency just yet.
Later that evening, a girlfriend of mine suggested a spontaneous night out at an Afrobeats club. Her friend managed to get us on the guest list, and a famous female DJ she knew was playing. It sounded perfect.
Except for one minor detail.
When we arrived and looked around, the reality hit us hard. For those who don’t know, I am 44 years old, and my friend is around the same age. Walking into that line, we instantly realized we were about to raise the average age of the venue by at least ten years. Easily.
We walked inside, feeling completely out of place, navigating through what felt like a crowd of children. My friend was driving, and since I don't drink alcohol, we headed straight to the bar and ordered alcohol-free drinks. There we stood, holding our glasses, semi-paralyzed, staring at this absolute kindergarden of a dance floor..
My immediate human reflex was to feel uncomfortable, to judge the situation, and to want to flee. But then, a massive realization hit me: This is a test.
Over the past year, I’ve been actively pushing myself out of my comfort zone, doing things that scare me—like traveling completely alone. This moment was just another frontier to cross. But what made it even heavier was how cleanly it poked at my freshest wounds. Walking into that room, all the conditioning, judgments, and prejudices I had carried in my head from my recent trip to Zanzibar—and the guy I dated who was 13 years younger (you can read all about that in my previous posts if you haven't already)—came rushing back to the surface. Age, race, expectations. It all triggered me for a reason.
Here we were: two middle-aged women in a venue completely packed with young Black men. The insecure voice in my head immediately started whispering: "What are they going to think? That we’re here hunting for young guys?" But that couldn't have been further from the truth. My friend is in a relationship, and I had literally just blocked mine that very morning; a new romance was the absolute last thing on my mind. So, seriously, who the fuck cares?
This is exactly why I’ve been working hard on developing a true "I don't give a fuck" mindset. I’ve started viewing reality almost like a video game—where I am the only real player, and everyone else around me is just an avatar designed to make the current level a little more challenging. This club wasn't an awkward mistake; it was Level 52 of my calibration.
I turned to my friend and said, "Screw it. Who cares that they are young? We aren't here to pick anyone up. We are here for the music. We are here to dance and have fun."
The moment I stopped looking at the crowd and started looking inward, the control slipped away. We stepped onto the floor and we danced. We didn’t make it a crazy, all-night bender—after all, we are still two middle-aged ladies—so we called it a night around 2 AM. But as I went to sleep, I felt this incredible wave of satisfaction.
If I had forced myself to go out the night before when my body was screaming for the couch, I would have had zero energy for Malmö. But because I listened to my body, because I cut off the energetic drain of a text-game that didn't serve me, I was rewarded with hours of open-air Salsa and a badass night of Afrobeats.
The universe will always test your new boundaries. Your only job is to look past the avatars, ride the wave, and stay true to your own fun.
Stay fierce within your own game,
Love /Olga 👑🔥
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