A few months ago a moment of “DONE” arrived. I picked up a stick, drew a line in the dirt, and said with force, “Enough” and “Never Again.”
In some ways it wasn’t surprising. As oestrogen, the care-giving hormone, takes a back seat in midlife, other parts of ourselves become louder, especially the parts that aren’t so concerned about being “nice” or what other people think of us. I hadn’t slept well for three months. That likely contributed too. As I drew that line in the dirt, it was as if all the stories and major instances of pleasing, poor boundaries, being a well-behaved woman, chronic self-betrayal, and not using my voice to speak up and advocate for myself, were played before me on a movie screen. I sometimes wonder if this is what happens when we die. In that moment, I was ready to light a bonfire to what I’m no longer willing to take with me into the rest of my life. It was a decision fuelled by anger, an emotion that most of us were taught to fear and suppress.
Our anger contains enormous power. It can tell us when a boundary has been crossed. It protects us. It can help us take charge. Expressing anger releases tension and calms our nerves.
When I was 10 years-old I played competitive tennis with a couple of friends. We were a tight knit team. I loved those girls. I still do.
We had coaching once a week after school with a man, Mr Q, who was extremely patient with us chatty, giggly girls, and then on Saturday mornings we played against teams from other tennis clubs in the district.
One Saturday, the mum who ran our club, Mrs A, who I imagine was volunteering her time, dared to split up our team. It meant I wouldn’t be playing doubles with my best friend. That was not acceptable to me. With a raging fire in my belly, I strode up to Mrs A, and I told her in no uncertain terms that she needed to make an immediate change. I would be playing doubles with my friend, thank you very much, and that would be the end of the story.
She succumbed. I was happy. I didn’t have a care in the world about what she thought of me. I also didn’t have a care in the world about how my behaviour affected her.
My oldest friend (we’ve been friends for 45 years!) still talks about that incident sometimes. It was… memorable.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that 10 year-old girl. She became exiled, mostly in the name of being liked by boys, especially once puberty started. Then men.
I’m longing for more of her now. I want to reclaim all of her: her spirit, her voice, her fire, her boundaries, her knowing. Only now, I want to express my needs in healthy ways that are assertive and kind. Firm, and not harmful.
Our anger needs to move. When it’s shoved down it causes all sorts of problems, from stifling our energy and life force (it literally exhausts us) to anxiety, depression, thyroid problems (where our voice lives) and other autoimmune conditions, and worse.
I started my business helping women own our power nearly 15 years ago, and there are times I wonder whether I’ll ever truly learn and embody the lessons. I don’t pretend to be perfect, and I don’t think there’s a moment we fully “arrive.” As long as we’re alive, life keeps giving us challenges to navigate, opportunities to learn and practise.
I think what does change though, in midlife and beyond, is that we’re no longer willing to put up with what we once tolerated. We’re done with over-functioning for the sake of making other people comfortable. We’re done with abandoning ourselves to belong. We’re no longer willing to deprioritise our own needs and betray ourselves.
We’re well aware too that we’re shifting into our final act. While what we want now is likely different from what we wanted before perimenopause and menopause arrived, we want to make it count in all the ways.
I’m doing the deep work of reclaiming what I’ve buried, silenced and left behind. It’s confronting – and kind of exciting. I love that I have fewer apologies left to give.
How about you? Which parts of your power are you reclaiming?
Radiant Heart retreat: 12-17 September 2027, Bali
There comes a time when we long for something deeper, when we’re ready to reclaim the parts of ourselves we lost, forgot, or left behind along the way.
Be nurtured and nourished, watch the fireflies flitting in the rice fields, remember who you truly are, and reclaim more of your aliveness and joy as you meet the radiance of your heart and soul - at the Radiant Heart retreat.
Choose yourself. For real this time.
Find out more and book your space here: Radiant Heart retreat
Just because…
For those of you who don’t know, I’m also a marriage and funeral celebrant. I was at Tambo Farm, a wedding venue, at the weekend for their open day. Little Lou Lou was there too, in her too-big red jumper and nappy.
She’s a second-born twin, and her mum rejected her. She’s now being fed by bottle every 3 hours.
Lou Lou slept in my arms and it was the highlight of my week. She melted my heart. Her little furry ears are very soft. I think adorable animals and flowers make everything better. I hope looking at these photos warms the cockles of your heart.
And, if you like looking at wedding photos, feel free to follow me here.
Footnote: I wrote this article on Monday. My process is to refine it over a couple of days before it’s published. It will arrive in your inbox in a couple of hours. I just found out that little Lou Lou died last night. When I cuddled her on Sunday I knew it might be the only time, which somehow made it all the sweeter and more precious. I’ve watched farm life for long enough to know that the life span of animals rejected by their mum is often limited. I wondered whether to share Lou Lou’s story and photos anyway, and decided I would. I think it’s worth honouring who/what touches our lives and feeling the emotions that accompany that. Feeling - the joy and the sadness - is part of our aliveness.
Thank you for reading. I’d love to hear if anything I’ve written resonates for you:
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Thanks for sharing my offering in your post Tricia. 💗Your writing speaks so much to what’s living within my heart and body ….. but so difficult for me to put into words …. Sending you so much love and gratitude for our retreat. And to all who were in Bali and the others who couldn’t be
“I love you’se all “🤩😁😘
Lou Lou 🧡 … cockles warmed, she’s a sweet🧡 I’m sure falling asleep in your arms was The Best for her too. Poor babe.