LIFE & MOTHERHOOD COACH FOR MAMAS IN MIDLIFE

Tag: midlife women

  • The Dream I Carried For Years (And What Happened When I Actually Lived It)

    I want to tell you about a dream I carried for years.

    A house in France. Green shutters. A different kind of life.

    I used to look out of my kitchen window on a grey English morning and think: there has to be more than this. And eventually — after years of waiting, talking myself out of it, talking myself back into it — we actually did it.

    And it was beautiful. The light in France in the early morning is unlike anything I’ve experienced. Warm and golden and slow. Nothing like February in Hampshire.

    But here’s what I didn’t expect: the hard part wasn’t the logistics or the upheaval or the uncertainty. The hard part was deciding that what I wanted was worth the disruption. That the dream — not the sensible choice, not the thing that made logistical sense — deserved to actually happen.

    For decades I’d been building a life around what worked. What was practical. What kept things smooth. I’m good at that — I’m a nurse, I’m a mother, I know how to hold things together. But somewhere in all that holding, I knew I was waiting too.

    You Are Not Going Backwards

    In my Motherhood Studies training, I studied a framework called the Maternal Self in Motion, developed by Dr Sophie Brock. It describes identity using the metaphor of a train journey — tracks, stations, carriages. The idea is that our sense of self isn’t something fixed we return to. It travels. It moves through stations of change, picks things up, sets things down, arrives somewhere new.

    The women I speak with often say they want to get back to who they were. But that woman isn’t behind you. She’s further down the track — carrying more wisdom, more clarity, a harder-won understanding of what she will and will not accept.

    You’re not going backwards to find yourself. You’re going forward, into a version of your life that can fit who you’ve actually become.

    What France Gave Me

    I loved France but it didn’t last. We came back after just a few months — Charlie needed his friends, his language, his home, his school system. People said, Charlie will be fine, just stay! But I knew he wasn’t fine. It simply wasn’t going to be right for him. He’s thriving now and is about to be Jack in Jack and the Beanstalk — which feels like an excellent life outcome.

    But I’m so glad we went.

    Going to live my dream gave me something I didn’t even know I needed: proof that I could choose something just because I wanted it. That the life I wanted was worth the uncertainty of actually trying. And I still feel like I lived that dream, even if just for a short time. It’s changed my life going forward — no more waiting.

    And now I’m planning my next dream. Walking in the mountains.

    So Let Me Ask You

    What do you want? Not what’s sensible. Not what will please everyone. What do you want for your one life?

    Sit down with a piece of paper — not your phone, actual paper — and finish this sentence without editing yourself:

    “The life I actually want looks like…”

    Write for five minutes. Don’t stop. Don’t cross anything out.

    Then circle the one thing that surprises you most. The thing you wrote and then immediately felt you shouldn’t have.

    That’s the one worth paying attention to.

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in , , , ,

    I want to tell you about a dream I carried for years. A house in France. Green shutters. A different kind of life. I used to look out of my kitchen window on a grey English morning and think: there has to be more than this. And eventually — after years of waiting, talking myself…

  • Sometimes Rediscovery Looks Like a Library Cookbook

    It’s been a fairly ordinary week — some nursing, coaching work, school runs, and February doing its thing with bright daffodils and snowdrops in gardens, parks and meadows.

    But something small lit something up for me this week, and I wanted to share it.

    My son Charlie and I went to the library. We came home with a stack of bright, picture-heavy children’s cookbooks — the kind where you choose recipes by the photos. I’ve been wanting to change my relationship with cooking for a while. Most days it feels like a chore to get through rather than enjoy. I needed some inspiration to energise it.

    So I tried something different.

    We made a Quiche Lorraine. A new chicken dish with mustard. Next up: homemade pizza, a sausage traybake, and lemon muffins for our cousins this weekend.

    Charlie didn’t actually cook with me in the end. But that wasn’t the point.

    The point was: I said I’d try something. I did. And I felt that YES — the “I did it” feeling nobody else can give you.

    Because I have to cook every day anyway. I may as well make it something that brings me alive.

    That’s rediscovery. Not always dramatic. Sometimes it’s just a library cookbook on a Tuesday.

    Rediscovery doesn’t have to mean moving countries, changing careers, or making a grand announcement. It can be as quiet as choosing a different recipe. As small as borrowing a book. As simple as deciding that something you do every day anyway deserves to feel like yours.

    Women over 50 are often waiting for the big moment — the revelation, the sign, the perfect circumstances. But the spark doesn’t usually arrive that way. It arrives in ordinary Tuesday afternoons when you decide, almost without thinking, to do something a little differently.

    That decision — however small — is the beginning.

    What gave you your spark this week?

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in , , ,

    It’s been a fairly ordinary week — some nursing, coaching work, school runs, and February doing its thing with bright daffodils and snowdrops in gardens, parks and meadows. But something small lit something up for me this week, and I wanted to share it. My son Charlie and I went to the library. We came…

  • Boundaries Work Both Ways: The Hard Truth About Respecting Other People’s No

    Hello,

    How are you? I hope you’re well.

    This week we’ve been talking about boundaries—the ones you set, the ones you need to hold. But what about when other people’s boundaries affect you?

    The Other Side of Boundaries

    The friend who doesn’t reply to your message. The invitation you didn’t get. The person who says “No thanks” when you wanted “Yes please.”

    Those hurt. And they’re still boundaries we need to respect.

    It’s easy to talk about setting OUR boundaries. But what happens when we’re on the receiving end of someone else’s?

    The Party I Wasn’t Invited To

    I remember when my Mum told me I was invited to my uncle’s 80th birthday party. He’s my godfather, and the whole family would be there.

    “Everyone’s invited,” she said.

    I hadn’t received an invitation myself, but I trusted her. And even though it was far away—normally I’d say no because of the distance—I thought: this time I’ll go. I’ll make the effort. I booked accommodation and put it in the diary.

    Then a few weeks later, Mum called. “This is embarrassing,” she started. “You’re not actually invited. They don’t have room in the restaurant.”

    Ouch.

    The embarrassment. The hurt. The anger, if I’m honest.

    I cancelled the trip. I felt foolish. I should have waited for an actual invitation. I should have checked directly with them instead of assuming.

    The Boundary I Didn’t Want to See

    But here’s the point: they had a boundary. A certain number of places. And I wasn’t high enough on the guest list.

    It stung. But it was their boundary to set.

    Not mine to challenge. Not mine to be angry about. Theirs.

    And accepting that—truly accepting it—was harder than setting any boundary of my own.

    Boundaries Don’t Only Work One Way

    We love talking about OUR boundaries. The ones we set. The ones we hold. The ones we’re proud of finally saying no to.

    But boundaries don’t just work in one direction.

    Sometimes you’re on the receiving end of someone else’s boundary. And that’s hard. Sometimes painfully hard.

    The friend who’s pulled back without explanation. The family member who doesn’t return your calls. The person who said no when you desperately wanted yes.

    Those boundaries can feel like rejection. Like you don’t matter. Like you’ve done something wrong.

    But here’s the truth: respecting other people’s boundaries—even when they hurt, even when they embarrass you—is part of having boundaries yourself.

    You can’t demand people include you, reply to you, or prioritize you.

    Just like they can’t demand those things from you.

    It’s the same principle. Just from the other side.

    Why This Matters for Women Over 50

    For women over 50, this can be especially painful.

    We’ve spent decades making ourselves available to everyone. Picking up the phone. Saying yes. Including people. Making sure no one feels left out.

    So when someone doesn’t do that for us? It feels like a betrayal.

    But it’s not. It’s just a boundary. And it’s theirs to set.

    Learning to respect boundaries that hurt is one of the deepest forms of emotional maturity. And one of the hardest.

    Your Reflection

    Can you think of a boundary someone else has set that’s hard for you to respect?

    The friend who’s pulled back. The family member who doesn’t respond. The person who said no when you wanted yes.

    Can you let them have that boundary—even though it hurts, even though it’s not what you wanted?

    It doesn’t mean you don’t matter.

    It just means they have a boundary. And so do you.

    I’d love to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment below or hit reply—I read every single one.

    With love and best wishes always, Susy

    P.S. What boundary is hard for you to respect right now? Hit reply—I’m here to listen. 💛

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in , , ,

    Hello, How are you? I hope you’re well. This week we’ve been talking about boundaries—the ones you set, the ones you need to hold. But what about when other people’s boundaries affect you? The Other Side of Boundaries The friend who doesn’t reply to your message. The invitation you didn’t get. The person who says…

  • Party time and boundaries: A Story About Choosing Yourself at 50+

    Hello,

    This week we’ve been talking about boundaries.

    I wonder—have you made any new ones? Or started noticing which ones you have, or might need?

    The Boundaries We Don’t Talk About

    This week, my son has been off sick from school, which meant I couldn’t work as I normally would.

    This was a different kind of boundary. Non-negotiable. My son needed me, and everything else had to wait.

    But that same weekend, I did something unusual for me.

    I went to a party. Yes, an actual party. For adults.

    The Party I Almost Didn’t Attend

    It was my best friend’s 55th birthday celebration—three hours away. A six-hour round trip, plus breaks.

    Last year, I would have said, “It’s too far, I can’t go.”

    But this year, I thought: We have ONE life. I’m going.

    Which meant my 8-year-old son wouldn’t come. Which meant my husband would look after him.

    This was a boundary I wouldn’t normally set. I had to think it through. I had to justify it to myself.

    My son and husband would have fun together. They wouldn’t enjoy the long journey. My son would be bored at the party. And I wouldn’t be able to relax, catch up with my friend, and actually enjoy myself.

    The Guilt That Almost Stopped Me

    But here’s the thing: why did I find this so difficult?

    The guilt of leaving him. The feeling of selfishness for not including them.

    Yet I also deeply knew: I needed to see my friend. To chat, to laugh, to really catch up properly about how we both are.

    For women over 50, choosing ourselves—especially when it means asking others to accommodate us for once—can feel almost revolutionary. The guilt is real. But so is the need.

    What Happened When I Said Yes

    And once I made that decision? Everything opened up.

    I met up with another old friend I haven’t seen for years. We spent three hours in a café in lovely Marlow, just talking.

    We’ve both been through rough times (haven’t we all?), and it was so good to be together.

    At the party, I met new people—interesting and interested people. One woman takes three dancing lessons a week: two tap, one ballet. Another has just booked a walking holiday. Another recently started her own interior design business.

    Making that one boundary—going to my friend’s party alone—opened up my world in unexpected ways.

    And here’s the beautiful part: everyone had a great weekend.

    The Power of One Boundary

    Sometimes, setting one boundary creates a ripple effect you never expected.

    That party wasn’t just about celebrating my friend’s birthday. It was about saying: I matter too. My friendships matter. My joy matters.

    It was about choosing myself—not instead of my family, but alongside them.

    And trusting that everyone would be absolutely fine without me for one day.

    They were.

    Your Turn

    This week, I invite you to reflect on your own boundaries.

    What boundary are you setting—or could you set—that might open up your world in ways you haven’t imagined?

    Where are you holding yourself back to accommodate everyone else?

    What would it look like to choose yourself, even just for one day?

    I’d love to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment below or hit reply—I read every single one.

    With love and best wishes always, Susy

    P.S. If you’re constantly struggling with boundaries and the guilt that comes with them, you’re not alone. Reply and tell me about it. I’m here. 💛

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in , , , ,

    Hello, This week we’ve been talking about boundaries. I wonder—have you made any new ones? Or started noticing which ones you have, or might need? The Boundaries We Don’t Talk About This week, my son has been off sick from school, which meant I couldn’t work as I normally would. This was a different kind…