LIFE & MOTHERHOOD COACH FOR MAMAS IN MIDLIFE

Tag: self-discovery

  • 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…

  • The courage to start again

    How are you? I hope you’re well.

    Monday’s email was about starting something new. Yesterday that was me, in a hard way.

    My sister and I cleared out my Mum’s things. She died in September, and we’d been putting this off waiting until the New Year…

    Mum was a great declutterer – she’d often say, “If you want it, have it!  I don’t need it!” – so she had very few possessions. Some clothes. A little jewellery. We went through everything in just a few hours.

    It was sad. But it was necessary. It was the beginning of a new era whether we wanted it or not.

    Some new starts can’t be avoided.

    Death. Divorce. Redundancy. Your kids leaving home. Your body changing in ways you can’t control.

    These beginnings are thrust upon you. You don’t choose them. But you have to start anyway.

    Other new starts? Perhaps we avoid those.

    Even when we know avoiding them costs us.

    We avoid starting because starting requires courage. It requires being a beginner again, admitting maybe we got something wrong and need to try differently.

    Starting requires being willing to be bad at something.

    I’ve started lifting weights. I’ve never done it before and I feel daft doing it.

    But I know that in 10 years, I’ll either thank myself for starting now or regret that I didn’t.  I already regret that I didn’t start earlier.

    So I bought some dumbbells and I’m doing 10 minutes three times a week. I’m not good at it, I just do it anyway.

    And that’s the point.

    Starting doesn’t require you to be good. It just requires you to begin.

    The question is:

    Are you avoiding starting something?

    • The difficult conversation you need to have?
    • The boundary you need to set?
    • The dream you’ve been putting off?
    • The small practice that would change your life?

    You don’t have to do it perfectly and you don’t have to know how it will turn out.

    You just have to take the first step.

    With love and best wishes always,
    Susy

    P.S. What’s the one thing you’ve been avoiding starting? Hit reply—I read every response.

    Ready to go deeper?

    If you’re ready to stop avoiding and start choosing yourself, I’d love to support you.

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in

    How are you? I hope you’re well. Monday’s email was about starting something new. Yesterday that was me, in a hard way. My sister and I cleared out my Mum’s things. She died in September, and we’d been putting this off waiting until the New Year… Mum was a great declutterer – she’d often say,…

  • What if 2026 is the year you stop waiting?

    I’m writing this on the first Monday of 2026.  The Christmas tree and decorations are all put away and there is a sense of freshness and clarity.

    So is it time to start afresh, to try something different, to finally do that thing you’ve been thinking about for months.

    But sometimes that idea can get squashed with the thought of…

    “Is it too late? What’s the point?”

    We’ve all played the waiting game at some point in our lives…

    Maybe you’ve been waiting to pursue something you put aside years ago.
    Maybe you’ve been waiting until the kids left home.
    Maybe you’ve been waiting until you have more time, energy, money.
    Maybe you’ve been waiting for someone to say it’s okay, go ahead, go for it.

    And maybe you’re tired of waiting.

    I spent a long time not prioritizing myself. Waiting until everyone else’s needs were met. Waiting until it wouldn’t inconvenience anyone. Just waiting.

    Until one day I looked around and thought: What am I waiting for, exactly? What magical moment am I expecting where suddenly it will be easier, less complicated, more acceptable to finally choose myself?  At this rate, I will never do what I actually want to do – learn French, live in France, go dancing, sing, love the clothes I wear, feel good about myself, start my own business…

    There’s no one who will tell you to stop waiting.   

    It comes from you.

    And it’s okay to start messy, imperfect, not know what you’re doing exactly, learn as you go.

    So a few years ago, I stopped waiting.

    Not in one dramatic decision, but in a series of small choices that gave me butterflies. I took my life coaching course (I loved it, it changed my life), when people said I shouldn’t be wasting money.   I started building this business slowly when people asked why I wasn’t just grateful to have a stable and rewarding work as a nurse.  

    I carried on because I knew deep down that I wanted to support women in a different way to how I support mothers who come to the neonatal intensive care unit.  I knew my new work in life coaching was important and worthwhile.  Because it was what I had needed myself and it had changed my life.

    Some people didn’t understand.

    But I carried on regardless.  My journey of rediscovery continued and in doing so, I improved my relationships, authenticity, my strength and joy. I started recognizing myself again.

    That woman who used to have dreams and opinions and a sense of what she wanted from life – she was still there. I’d waited so long that I’d almost forgotten who I really was.  But I’m back and it feels great.  I’m still on that rediscovery journey – I think I always will be because we are always evolving and I love it.

    So who’s permission do you need to be you? No-ones – just you.
    You don’t need perfect timing – there is never a perfect time.
    You don’t need anyone’s approval – you will always be judged so just go for being the true you.

    There will always be one more reason to wait. One more person who needs you. One more thing that should come first.

    But let’s face it, there’s never a socially acceptable time to prioritize yourself. When you’re younger, you’re needed – by children, partners, money to earn, aging parents to care for (and you truly are needed, and it can be beautiful, it’s not a bad thing).

    When you’re older, you’re expected to be grateful, be content with what you have and stop wanting more.

    There’s no magical window where everyone suddenly cheers you on saying, “Yes, now is your time. Go ahead. Chase that dream. Choose yourself. 

    You just have to decide it’s your time. And then start.

    Even if it feels too late (it’s not). Even if people are confused (soon they won’t be). Even if it’s messy and imperfect and you’re figuring it out as you go (that’s just fine – you won’t know the second step until you take the first step).

    This year, what if you just started on one idea that keeps coming back to you, that just stays with you?

    I’m not saying it will be easy. But what if this is the year you let go of the idea that “it’s not the right time”?

    Here’s something for you to practice this week:

    Answer this question honestly:

    What have you been wating to do but have let it sit on a shelf gathering dust?

    Write it down. Don’t edit yourself. Don’t make it reasonable or small or acceptable.

    Just write what you’ve been waiting to do, be, or become.

    Then ask yourself: What’s one tiny step I could take toward that this week?

    Not the whole thing or a perfect plan. Just one small movement in that direction.

    That’s the beginning.   Choose one thing and start anyway.

    —

    by

    Susy Rosemary
    in

    I’m writing this on the first Monday of 2026.  The Christmas tree and decorations are all put away and there is a sense of freshness and clarity. So is it time to start afresh, to try something different, to finally do that thing you’ve been thinking about for months. But sometimes that idea can get…