There’s a shift that happens with age.
It begins in midlife, when you stand steadfast like wheat in a field facing an impending storm and say, I’ve had enough. You can’t knock me down.
I’ve had enough of compromising my values to fit in. I did that for decades, trying to avoid the male bullies whose sovereignty dictated the rules for right and wrong. Rules that consistently stomped on my rights as a woman.
I’ve had enough of staying silent when the rage builds inside me like a hurricane gathering force over the ocean. Staying silent about injustice, corruption, misogyny. That anger needs an outlet. It needs a voice.
I’ve had enough of putting myself last. Now is the time to give myself a break from routines that no longer serve me, from endless competition that demands my attention, from the self-doubt and fear that kept me playing small.
I’ve known what it feels like to slip into victim hood. To drown in guilt for not being good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, especially as age creeps in despite my resistance.
I’m gasping now for fresh air. For a life where the toxins, internal and external, are finally extracted. Where relief replaces that dull, throbbing weight I carried for far too long.
I’ve given away enough power over my lifetime to fuel a New York City utility plant.
Enough.
I’m ready to take it back.
As a young girl, I had that power. My energy glowed like a beacon, an open invitation for possibility. I was precocious and ambitious. There was nothing I wouldn’t try, nothing I believed I couldn’t do. Failure wasn’t a dead end; it was part of the journey.
And I learned. I fell. I stood back up.
I was a powerful little girl with nothing stopping her from dreaming big—trips to the moon and back. A star among the planets.
My parents nurtured my curiosity and my courage. They encouraged me to be fully myself, to own every inch of who I was. I was a force. And they were on the sidelines, cheering me on.
So what happened to that little girl?
What dimmed her light?
She became a firefly caught in a patriarchal jar, her glow slowly fading under the weight of expectations.
Too many rules. Too much pressure to be the “good girl.” Too much energy spent trying to please.
But something shifts in midlife.
It sets you free.
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