Tag: finding yourself after 50

  • Finding Your Authentic Voice After 50: The Difference Between Filtering for Care and Disappearing

    This was originally sent to my REDISCOVERY newsletter subscribers. If you’d like letters like this delivered to your inbox every Monday, you can sign up on the side panel.


    It’s Bank Holiday weekend here in the UK – it started with a trip to the seaside, some nursing work, and the particular pleasure of a quiet morning today with my milky coffee in my favourite mug.

    So today we’re talking about the power of speaking, of using your authentic voice.

    Because how we speak, to others and to ourselves, tells us who we currently are, and who we’re becoming.

    How many times do we speak inauthentically? It’s worth noticing – not as self-criticism, but as information. Are we just passing the time of day, or are we making a true connection? Are we saying what we mean, or a managed version of it?

    And then there’s how we speak to ourselves. That tone. Is it sharp? Is it kind? Is it fair? Because the way we talk to ourselves is the foundation everything else is built on.

    I filter. I know I do. Because I know people’s triggers and sensitivities – my children are sensitive, and I have to be careful about what I say and how I say it. But here’s what I’ve learned: that can still be authentic and loving. Filtering for care is different from filtering for self-erasure. One is thoughtfulness. The other is a slow disappearance, which I’ve experienced and have come back from.

    Sometimes we’ve edited how we speak just to keep the peace. Sometimes our anger speaks before we’re ready. Sometimes nervousness shows in a shaky voice, or a laugh that shouldn’t be there. We don’t need to perform. We just need to be truer.

    Sometimes I get this wrong. Sometimes I rush, or snap at my children, and immediately I regret it. Nothing good ever comes from it. And it usually happens when we’re running late, when I’m tired, when I’ve got too many things in my head at once. It always ends with an apology from me and a reminder to myself to learn.

    On the whole, I have learnt. Just by taking a bit more time. Just by knowing that rushing simply does not work for me. That pause, that extra breath, is where the authentic version lives.

    Speaking the truth can change your life. Speaking, discussing, not keeping your true feelings locked inside but letting them out in a considered way leads to alignment, and to peace. It can be hard. Others might not want to hear what you have to say. But in the end, it has to be said. So that you can be free.

    I’m still practising this. Some weeks I get it right – I say the true thing and it feels like a relief, like something unclenching. Other weeks I notice, ten minutes after a conversation, that I gave the managed version instead. And I think: next time. We have to learn. And we have to give ourselves grace.

    This week’s practice:

    Notice how you speak to someone this week:

    • Am I speaking authentically, or giving the managed version?
    • What feeling am I conveying? Is it the one I actually want to convey?
    • How am I speaking to myself today – is it with love?

    How you speak, how you use your voice – it’s one of the most powerful tools you have. It is a path back to yourself.

    With love and best wishes always, Susy

    P.S. When was the last time you said something and thought – yes, that was exactly right, that was actually me? Hit reply. I’d love to hear it.

    Ready to go deeper?

    FREE RESOURCES FOR YOU:

    What Do I Really Want? Your 5-Step Action Plan — for when you’ve lost touch with your own desires

    Get Your Spark Back Guide — small, practical ways to feel like yourself again

    Rediscover Your Values Workbook — get clear on what actually matters to you now

    All on my website: www.susyrosemary.com

    This was originally sent to my REDISCOVERY newsletter subscribers. If you’d like letters like this delivered to your inbox every Monday, you can sign up on the side panel. It’s Bank Holiday weekend here in the UK – it started with a trip to the seaside, some nursing work, and the particular pleasure of a…

  • Setting Boundaries After 50: What Nobody Tells You About the Guilt

    This was originally sent to my REDISCOVERY newsletter subscribers. If you’d like letters like this delivered to your inbox every Monday, you can sign up in the side panel.


    How are you? I hope you’re well. This week, I did my first long Ramblers walk with my new boots and a knapsack on my back. 10 miles, beautiful weather, boats, sparkles in the water, bluebells and butterflies. It was so fun and inspiring to meet new people. It felt freeing and each step was a step on my own Rediscovery journey. I’m going to book another one.

    So this week I set a boundary with someone so that I could protect my peace. It was important to me and I had to do it. It was difficult for me to do.

    Defining a boundary is a truth you say out loud. You say what you need. For what your body needs (instead of storing it in tension) and what your mind needs (instead of storing angst).

    For most of our adult lives, especially as women, as mothers and carers, we often care about and for other people. Perhaps we gave way on things that mattered because it was easier. Perhaps we stayed quiet in situations that cost us something. Perhaps we called it being reasonable, being nice, being a good mother, daughter, colleague, friend.

    I had a moment when I realised that I had spent so long accommodating everyone else’s preferences that I genuinely had lost my own. Not because I didn’t have them. But because I’d spent years taking care of everyone else at my own expense. I don’t blame them – it was me, fitting into some belief or social system.

    A boundary can seem aggressive but it isn’t. Nor is it unkindness. It’s the honest answer to the question: what will I accept, and what won’t I accept any more?

    The discomfort you feel when you live with a boundary – that guilt, that urge to apologise and take it back – that’s not evidence that you’ve done something wrong. It’s evidence that you’ve spent a very long time not doing this. New things feel uncomfortable. That doesn’t mean they’re wrong.

    This week’s practice:

    Sit quietly with these questions. Write honestly, without editing:

    • What have I been tolerating that I know, deep down, I shouldn’t be?
    • Where do I feel drained, resentful, or invisible?
    • What do I want instead?

    And finally, what is one step I could take to get from where I am to where I truly want to be? That’s the exciting part…

    With love and best wishes always, Susy

    P.S. What is one aspect of your life that you want to change, and how can you change it in one small way towards what you really want? Hit reply – I read every single one.

    This was originally sent to my REDISCOVERY newsletter subscribers. If you’d like letters like this delivered to your inbox every Monday, you can sign up in the side panel. How are you? I hope you’re well. This week, I did my first long Ramblers walk with my new boots and a knapsack on my back.…