LIFE & MOTHERHOOD COACH FOR MAMAS IN MIDLIFE

Tag: personal growth

  • 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…

  • 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…