Have you ever stared into the abyss of your forties and realized you don’t know who the hell is staring back? Yeah, me neither.
For years, I was on autopilot. School? Aced it. Career? Raincheck until working from home became the new black and solopreneurship became my escape pod. Raising a son? The most rewarding challenge ever. A marathon of the mind and heart
Gone was the all-conquering wonder woman who crushed school, built a career, and raised a freaking awesome son (single-handedly, no less!). Turns out, full-time parenting leaves less time for conquering and more time for remembering where you put your coffee mug (spoiler alert: it’s usually in the freezer). Then, bless his heart, my son decided to grow up into a capable young man. Suddenly, I’m adrift like a designer handbag lost at sea – expensive, but completely lost. Am I a Chanel or a Dior? I am a proud designer that just got early retirement. More importantly, who am I even when I’m not “Mom?”
Seriously, did someone forget to tell us there was a mid-life pop quiz? Because apparently, the answer to “Who are you now?” isn’t just “Mom.” Don’t get me wrong, I love my son more than overpriced sushi (and that’s a serious commitment). But shouldn’t there be a warning label?
“Warning: May cause complete loss of self-identity. Side effects may include existential dread, a sudden urge to dye your hair mermaid green (not recommended for work presentations), and the overwhelming need to finally get that eyebrow microblading you’ve been ogling on Instagram (highly encouraged).”
Look, if there was a University of Womanly Arts (besides the one where I crushed digital media, duh!), this wouldn’t be happening. We’d be lounging in seminars with titles like “Unraveling the Mystery of Your Post-Child Identity” and “Renegotiating Your Relationship with Spanx.” Since that dream university remains just that (ahem, for now!), this blog becomes my personal quest to rediscover the zest for life that seems to have gone MIA. Think of it as graduating from “Adulting 101” to “Mastering Life 102.” Our 20s were about laying the groundwork, and now? It’s time to build our freaking dream mansion – complete with a moat filled with margaritas (kidding… mostly).
Sure, you might see a few more laugh lines in the mirror, adding more character, not wrinkles. Who wouldn’t want more time to play the game of life? Heck, I still wanna give it a good run for another 40 rounds (tequila shots not included).
Here’s the thing: The rulebook for this stage of life is unwritten. That’s the beauty of it! We get to choose what truly matters to us, who we want to be, and how we want to spend this incredible bonus time we’ve been given. Maybe you want to finally write that novel you’ve always dreamed of, travel the world like a carefree nomad (bucket list, anyone?), channeling your inner warrior in martial arts, or embark on a mission trip to empower women in another part of the world. There’s a whole world of good waiting to be done!
The point is, this is your chance to re-design a life that’s as unique and awesome as you are. This time, it’s tailored to your growth, your values, and what no longer serves you. Grab your metaphorical chisel and start sculpting your masterpiece! This is your stage, darling, own it!
We’ll embark on a journey to rediscover who we are beyond “mom,” “career,” or even “wifey.” We’ll peel back the layers of our identities like fancy, expensive onions (because let’s face it, therapy can be pricey!). There will be laughter, tears, and maybe, a newfound appreciation for ourselves (and a well-deserved indulgence – Stella Artois, Americano, Chardonnay, whatever your poison, babe!).
Stay tuned for more adventures in mid-life mastery! We’ll figure this out together, one existential journey and juice at a time.
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