LIFE & MOTHERHOOD COACH FOR MAMAS IN MIDLIFE

Category: identity

  • Who Were You Five Years Ago? A Question Every Woman Over 50 Should Ask

    I’ve been on a few night shifts this week — there’s something about working at 4am that makes you see your life very clearly.

    It got me thinking.

    Who were you five years ago?

    What did you put up with that you wouldn’t now? What did you believe about yourself that has quietly shifted? What did you call normal that now makes you pause?

    I ask because I think we wildly underestimate how much we’ve changed. We’re so focused on who we’re trying to become that we forget to notice who we’ve already become.

    Five years ago, I was waking at 4am rehearsing conversations. Replaying things people had said – or hadn’t said. Working out how to phrase something so it wouldn’t cause a problem. Calculating whether my needs were reasonable before I’d even expressed them.

    A constant internal negotiation. An editing of myself before I spoke.

    I don’t do that anymore. Not never – some mornings still catch me. But mostly: I notice when I’m doing it, and I stop. That gap between the impulse and the action – that’s where I live now. Along with a lot more compassion for myself too.

    That didn’t happen in one single lightbulb moment. It happened through a lot of small, uncomfortable choices. Saying something true when it would have been easier to stay quiet. Choosing not to explain myself when I didn’t owe an explanation. Starting REDISCOVERY on a night shift break and thinking: this is real, and I’m going to keep going.

    The Maternal Self in Motion framework – which I studied as part of my Motherhood Studies certification – describes our identity as a train journey. Not a fixed destination. A journey, with tracks and stations and a carriage that carries everything you’ve been through.

    The stations mark the befores and afters. And in our 50s, most of us have been through stations that changed everything. The loss of a parent. The end of a relationship. Children becoming adults. Relocation. The slow, clarifying recognition that the life you’ve been living was assembled partly for other people.

    My mum died in September 2025. I was with her for twelve days in hospital, and then she was gone. It was the saddest thing that has ever happened to me – and also, strangely, one of the most clarifying. She was genuinely warm, kind, and caring. She made everyone feel seen. And sitting with her in those last days, I thought: that’s what I want. Not success or recognition or proving anything. I want to be that real.

    I got back on the train different.

    You have too.

    Look at yourself clearly – not critically, but clearly. See the woman who has been through stations and kept going. Who has learned things the hard way and applied them anyway. Who is, right now, more herself than she has ever been.

    This week’s practice:

    Think of one thing you’ve said or done in the last six months that the woman you were five years ago would not have done.

    One moment where you held your ground. Told the truth. Chose yourself.

    Didn’t apologise for existing.

    Write it down in one specific sentence. Not “I’ve been setting more boundaries.” Something real: “I started something without asking anyone’s permission.”

    Then read it back and say: I did that. That was me.

    Because it was. And the woman who did that is still here, still building, still becoming.

    That’s the beginning.

    With love and best wishes always,
    Susy 

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in , , ,

    I’ve been on a few night shifts this week — there’s something about working at 4am that makes you see your life very clearly. It got me thinking. Who were you five years ago? What did you put up with that you wouldn’t now? What did you believe about yourself that has quietly shifted? What…

  • You Don’t Need Permission To Want What You Want (Women Over 50)

    We’re here again focusing on living for you, rediscovering you, your values, your wishes, your dreams. Because this is your own unique life, precious yet vulnerable.

    So let’s check by asking the question – when did you last want something just for you – without explaining it away?

    Not for your children. Not because it would make you a better mother, partner, colleague, friend or because the classic “it’s good for you”. Just something you wanted because you wanted it for no particular reason other than it makes you happy.

    For many of us, that question can land awkwardly. Because wanting things for ourselves has felt – for a very long time – like something that needs to be justified first.

    I spent years doing it. The qualification always arrived before the desire had even finished forming.

    Obviously I’m grateful, but… It’s probably silly, but… I know I should be content with, but…

    But I want more, and I want something else…eek…

    There was a period in my life when I wanted, more than almost anything, to live in France. Green shutters. Slow mornings. A completely different pace. It felt self-indulgent even to think it. I had responsibilities. Children. A life already assembled. Who was I to want something so different?

    And yet the wanting didn’t go away. It just sat there, quietly festering for years.

    We had a window of opportunity. I knew if we didn’t try, we never would. So we went.

    Some people thought we were ungrateful. Selfish. Downright crazy.

    We weren’t. We were just choosing something for ourselves – and that, apparently, still makes people very uncomfortable.

    Here’s what my Motherhood Studies training gave me language for: that guilt – the one that arrives the moment you want something for yourself – isn’t personal. It’s cultural. The Social Conditioning Pyramid maps exactly how girls are taught from childhood to place their needs last. To earn the right to be considered. To frame their desires in terms of how they serve others first.

    By the time we’re in our 50s, the conditioning runs so deep we don’t even notice it operating. We just feel the guilt, assume it means we’re wrong, and quietly put the want away.  And with that our confidence lessens too.

    But guilt isn’t evidence that you want too much.

    It’s evidence that you were taught to want less. And express less.

    France didn’t last – Charlie needed home, and we came back. But we went. We chose it. And even in going and returning, I learned something I couldn’t have learned any other way: that choosing something for myself, even imperfectly, even temporarily, was possible.  And I loved it too and I’m so, so glad we went.  It’s no longer festering there in my mind and we have made so many happy and funny memories.

    Your wants are not selfishness to suppress. They’re not problems to manage. They’re information – about who you are, what your life could look like, what you’ve been quietly longing for while you kept everyone else’s peace.

    You don’t need permission to want what you want.

    But if it helps to hear it said plainly: you’re allowed.

    This week’s practice:

    Write down three things you want. Not what you should want – what you actually want. Private, specific, yours.

    Then read each one back out loud. Not in your head. Out loud.

    Notice which one you almost whispered. Which one made you glance at the door. Which one felt almost embarrassing to say.

    That’s the one with the most power in it.

    You don’t have to show this to anyone. But you do have to hear yourself say it.  You have to give yourself permission.

    You are your own unique person that is here to grow and truly be.

    With love and best wishes always,
    Susy 

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in , ,

    We’re here again focusing on living for you, rediscovering you, your values, your wishes, your dreams. Because this is your own unique life, precious yet vulnerable. So let’s check by asking the question – when did you last want something just for you – without explaining it away? Not for your children. Not because it would make…

  • Your Spark Isn’t Gone — It’s Just Been Waiting

    Have you been feeling a little flat lately?

    Not depressed. Not broken. Just… a bit grey.

    Going through the motions. Doing what needs doing. Showing up for everyone else. But somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling that flicker — that sense of aliveness that used to be yours.

    I’ve been reflecting on this month’s theme: rediscovery. Reconnecting with what lights us up, with what makes each of us unique.

    And here’s what I want you to know before you read another word:

    Your spark isn’t gone. It’s just been a little lost, buried under years of looking after everything and everyone else.

    You can get it back. Every day, in some way, you can have your unique spark again.

    When the Years Just Passed

    A few years ago, I went through a period where I felt completely flat.

    I’d wake up. Go to my nursing shift. Come home. Sort everything. Do what needed doing. Repeat.

    Nothing was bad. But nothing excited me either. The years seemed to be just passing.

    The spark was there — I know that now. It was just hidden under years of putting everyone else first. Of being responsible, reliable, needed. Of doing what had to be done.

    I just couldn’t feel it anymore. And I knew I needed it back.

    How the Spark Came Back — In Small Moments

    With one simple shift in awareness — I wanted my spark back — I started to seek it out. And it returned in small, almost magical moments.

    I laughed at something silly my son said. I felt it.

    I sat with my daughter and really listened — no interrupting, no rushing. Just listened, then offered a few thoughts at the end. We connected. The spark was there.

    One morning I woke up genuinely looking forward to something I’d planned. That feeling of anticipation. The butterflies.

    Moments of aliveness.

    My spark wasn’t gone. It was waiting for me to notice it. Waiting for me to make space for it. Waiting for me to stop prioritising everything else long enough to remember: I’m allowed to want things just for me.

    Your Spark Is Still There Too

    We all have our unique spark. It’s what makes you, you.

    Under all the years of being who everyone needed you to be. Under all the times you said “I’m fine” when you weren’t. It’s still there.

    You don’t have to dig up every flicker at once. You don’t need a complete life transformation. You don’t have to quit your job and move to Italy — though if that’s your spark, I won’t stop you.

    Start smaller. Start with noticing.

    Notice the moments when you feel a little more alive. A little more yourself. When something makes you laugh, or pulls your attention, or creates that small bubble of anticipation in your chest.

    That’s your spark. It never left.

    This Week’s Practice

    Do one thing this week that makes you feel alive. Something that makes you feel like you.

    • Something that excites you
    • Something you’ve been putting off
    • Something that brings that small flicker back

    Notice it when it comes. That’s your spark. You’re back. And you’re on a wonderful journey of rediscovery.

    With love and best wishes always, Susy

    P.S. When did you last feel your spark? What were you doing? Leave a comment — I’d love to hear it.

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in , , , ,

    Have you been feeling a little flat lately? Not depressed. Not broken. Just… a bit grey. Going through the motions. Doing what needs doing. Showing up for everyone else. But somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling that flicker — that sense of aliveness that used to be yours. I’ve been reflecting on this month’s…

  • When I Chose Coffee Over a Night Shift (And Why It Mattered)

    I want to check in with you.

    Did you get to prioritise yourself this week?
    Did you do something just for you?

    Writing these reflections means I get to look honestly at my own rediscovery too. And this week, I made a decision that felt small… but wasn’t.

    The Dilemma

    I have a group of five friends. We’ve known each other since toddler group — and now our children are in their twenties.

    We’ve been through everything together:

    • Babies and school gates
    • Divorce and heartbreak
    • Illness and bereavement
    • Reinvention and rebuilding

    Over twenty years of showing up for each other.

    One of the gang moved six hours North. I haven’t seen her in over a year. She’s coming back down South this week and we’ve booked a table at our favourite café.

    But I was meant to work a night shift the evening before.

    And I know myself now.

    After a night shift, I can’t simply “push through.” I would have gone home, slept all day, and missed it.

    The old version of me would have said:
    Work comes first.

    The old version of me would have cancelled coffee.

    What I Did

    I cancelled the shift.

    I gave up paid work for coffee with a friend.

    And yes — a small part of me felt guilty.

    That whisper that says:

    • You should be earning.
    • You should be sensible.
    • You shouldn’t give up income.

    But I knew straight away I’d made the right decision.

    Work can wait. I can book another shift.

    This moment cannot be recreated.

    Friendship is a gift. A connection that takes years — decades — to build. It deserves to be protected.

    I can’t wait. It’s tomorrow.

    What This Reminded Me

    For so many of us women over 50, we’ve spent decades putting work, family, and everyone else’s needs ahead of our own joy.

    We prioritise:

    • Other people’s schedules
    • Other people’s comfort
    • Other people’s needs

    And somewhere along the way, we quietly downgrade our own happiness.

    We feel guilty choosing something that’s simply for us.

    But here’s what I’m learning:

    Choosing yourself isn’t selfish.
    It’s essential.

    When I cancelled that shift, I wasn’t being irresponsible.

    I was recognising that my friendships, my connections, my happiness matter just as much as my obligations.

    Maybe more.

    Money can be earned again.

    Moments can’t.

    This Week’s Reflection

    Let me gently ask you:

    • What have you been putting off “until later” that actually matters now?
    • Where are you choosing obligation over joy out of habit — not necessity?
    • What would change if you gave yourself permission to prioritise what lifts you up?

    Awareness comes first.

    Then change.

    And sometimes change looks like something very simple.

    Like coffee.

    With love and best wishes always,
    Susy

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in ,

    I want to check in with you. Did you get to prioritise yourself this week?Did you do something just for you? Writing these reflections means I get to look honestly at my own rediscovery too. And this week, I made a decision that felt small… but wasn’t. The Dilemma I have a group of five…