Walking down the aisle of a Weis Market in Havre de Grace, Maryland, I was following a young man who had offered to show me where to find bottled water when I heard a voice behind me.

“Ma’am… Ma’am…”

I turned around. A slightly out-of-breath woman in her twenties was weaving toward me through the carts. She stopped, caught her breath, and said, “I just had to tell you—you look so beautiful. I love your whole outfit. Have a great day.”

And off she went.

At 67, people are not usually chasing me down to tell me I look beautiful. I mumbled thank you. The man said, “The water is this way.” And I floated through the rest of the store—standing taller, chin up, something lit from the inside.

I told my sister about it later.

“Well,” she said, “you look great.”

There is something about unsolicited acknowledgment that nothing else quite replicates.

Her compliment did not create my beauty. But it exposed my hunger to have someone notice it.

I wish I could say I had completely outgrown that hunger.

I haven’t.

Why Women Feel Invisible After 55

When you are younger, the world constantly reflects you back to yourself.

Men notice you. Employers invest in your potential. Children need you. Society markets to you. People seek your attention, your labor, your care.

The world keeps sending back evidence that you have a place in it.

As you age, those reflections begin to diminish. And you start to feel invisible.

But perhaps what has actually happened is that you have lost the mirrors you were using to know your worth.

Those mirrors were always conditional. They reflected you when you were performing a socially valued function.

And here is the more uncomfortable truth:

The world has plenty of mirrors for the maiden and the mother.

It offers very few for the woman who belongs primarily to herself.

We call this invisibility. But often what we are really grieving is the loss of witnesses.

And there is a difference.

Social Menopause

Menopause changes how your body works.

Social menopause changes the terms under which the world agrees to notice you.

The attention once offered for beauty, fertility, service, and usefulness begins to recede—whether you wanted that attention or not.

As you age, the identity you have carried starts to shift beneath you. The roles that once made you legible to others—attractive, fertile, caregiving, productive—begin to loosen.

And in the space they leave behind, a disorienting question surfaces:

Who am I now?

Who do I even want to be?

I sit between stories.

The first story was:

Be beautiful.
Be chosen.
Be useful.
Raise children.
Support everyone.
Keep the family intact.
Make something of yourself.

I am no longer living that story.

But the next one has not fully announced itself yet.

For a while, I thought the spotlight had simply moved to my children and I had been reduced to a supporting role.

But their lives are not the sequel to mine.

They are separate stories entirely.

I am still the central character in my own.

My second story, I am beginning to understand, is this:

I no longer organize my identity around who needs me. I organize it around what feels alive in me.

The Hunger to Be Witnessed

What I craved most in my marriage was not praise.

It was something quieter and more essential than that.

I wanted my husband to witness me.

I wanted him to say:

I see the effort you made.
I see what this has cost you.
I see who you are becoming.
I see what you carried when nobody thanked you.

I wanted him to be proud to stand beside me.

Not constant applause—just acknowledgment that I existed and was evolving.

When that recognition did not come, I began to mistake his failure to see me for evidence that there was nothing worth seeing.

Slowly, quietly, I lost my sense of self.

Being looked at is not the same thing as being valued.

Being desired is not the same thing as being loved.

Being busy is not the same thing as being needed.

And yet I had spent years confusing each of those pairs—performing for mirrors that were never really showing me myself.

Some of the Invisibility Is Real

Of course, not all of this is happening inside us.

Some of the invisibility is real.

Older women are talked over, overlooked, underestimated, dismissed, and treated as though their most meaningful years are behind them. Their experience is often ignored. Their bodies disappear from advertising. Their opinions are treated as less relevant. Their ambition is regarded as surprising.

We should not spiritualize away a culture that genuinely looks past aging women.

But the culture’s blindness becomes even more dangerous when we begin using it as our own mirror.

When the world stops reflecting our value, do we stop believing it exists?

That is the deeper danger.

What I Had Been Outsourcing

As I have examined the different ways I abandoned myself, a pattern has emerged.

If your worth has depended on being desired, needed, admired, useful, or indispensable, then invisibility feels terrifying.

Because it seems to confirm what you feared all along:

That without a role to play, you do not quite exist.

But perhaps the problem was never only that others stopped seeing you.

Perhaps it was also that you stopped seeing yourself.

Or, more precisely, the parts of you that matter most—your wisdom, your depth, your courage, your compassion, your resilience, your hard-won experience—were never being reflected back by those mirrors in the first place.

Those are not the qualities our culture is trained to reward in women.

Where did we learn that being noticed was the same thing as existing?

What Becomes Possible

Human beings need to be witnessed.

Wanting recognition does not mean you are spiritually underdeveloped. We are relational creatures, and there is no shame in wanting someone to see us.

The goal is not to become so self-contained that no one’s attention matters.

The more nuanced truth is this:

I can know my worth without pretending I never need anyone to see me.

Self-validation does not mean becoming immune to recognition.

Compliments still warm us. Love still nourishes us. Being witnessed still matters.

The difference is that another person’s gaze becomes a gift—not life support.

I am still grateful to that young woman in Weis Market. Her compliment delighted me. It reminded me that being seen can be a small act of grace.

But the greater gift was what happened afterward.

For a few minutes, I walked differently because she saw me.

The question I now carry is whether I can learn to walk that way before anyone says a word.

Not because I no longer need other people.

But because another person’s gaze can delight in my light.

It should not be responsible for creating it.

It can warm me.

It cannot be the source of my flame.

Can I remain visible to myself?

That is the question for this chapter.

Self-Abandonment

If you think you’ve abandoned yourself, take this simple assessment and see. It’s free! If you have noticed a friend who is experiencing something similar, share this post with them.

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The Tarot Nook

Six of Pentacles Reversed

Upright, the Six of Pentacles is about generosity, giving and receiving, reciprocity. Reversed, it’s about power struggles and conditional reciprocity. This is exactly what the blog is talking about: me giving away my agency to my husband.

Worth that can be granted by another can also be withheld by another, giving them control.

Who have you given the authority to decide what you’re worth?

It’s like living under the belief that if I give enough, I will feel valued, that your worth is earned through performance.

This shines the light on the need to stop outsourcing our self-worth and let it shine from within. Know at your core your worth. Recognize your own value.

Perhaps you aren’t tired because you’re doing too much.

Perhaps you’re tired because you’ve been carrying someone you were never meant to carry.

Photo by Zoe on Unsplash

I’ve been sleeping eight hours a night.

Taking my vitamins.

Eating more protein.

Moving my body.

And yet… I wake up exhausted.

Not sleepy.

Exhausted.

The kind of exhaustion a nap doesn’t touch.

For months, I blamed everything I could think of. Maybe I needed more protein. Maybe I was low on minerals. Maybe I wasn’t exercising enough. Maybe I was spending too much time on the couch.

But when I stepped back and looked at the bigger picture—at the life I had before the carpet was pulled out from underneath me—I realized none of those were the real culprit.

I went from being a wife to suddenly single at sixty-seven.

That shift in identity is what has been draining me.

It’s not physical fatigue.

It’s identity fatigue.

And that is a completely different kind of exhaustion.

Identity fatigue happens when you’ve spent years living inside a role that no longer fits. The good girl. The strong one. The responsible one. The peacemaker. The woman who holds everything together.

Those identities have job descriptions.

The Good Girl keeps everyone happy.

The Strong One never asks for help.

The Responsible One remembers everything.

The Peacemaker makes sure everyone else is okay.

Those jobs don’t end at five o’clock.

They follow you to bed.

Your body may be resting, but your identity is still on duty.

That’s why sleep doesn’t always help.

Here’s what identity fatigue feels like from the inside.

Your mind never truly shuts off.

Is anyone upset?

Did I offend someone?

What needs fixing?

Have I forgotten anything?

Does someone need me?

Even in sleep, some part of you remains on call.

Imagine carrying a forty-pound backpack everywhere you go.

At first, you’d notice it.

Eventually, you’d stop noticing the backpack.

You’d only notice that you were exhausted.

Invisible weight still weighs something.

For many women, that invisible weight is made up of everyone else’s expectations, emotions, comfort, disappointments, and opinions. We carry them so long they begin to feel like our own.

Then there’s another energy leak we rarely talk about.

Every unnecessary “yes” creates a future promise.

Every future promise occupies space in your nervous system.

Before you’ve even shown up for the dentist appointment, the committee meeting, the favor you agreed to out of guilt, or the dinner you didn’t really want to attend...

...your body is already carrying it.

No wonder you’re tired.

Then there are the truths we never allow ourselves to speak.

The no that became a yes.

The hurt we smiled through.

The disappointment we swallowed.

The longing we convinced ourselves didn’t matter.

Those moments don’t disappear.

They settle quietly beneath the surface.

Waiting.

The Dredge

At my grandfather’s funeral, I held it together for my mother.

She had enough to deal with, I told myself, without me falling apart too.

Besides, we weren’t an especially emotional family.

So I swallowed my grief.

Months later, I attended a friend’s grandfather’s funeral.

As the service began, I started crying.

And I couldn’t stop.

I was convulsive.

I liked her grandfather well enough, but my tears had very little to do with him.

They belonged to my grandfather.

The grief I had packed away months earlier had simply been waiting for a place to land.

In that moment, I realized something profound.

My body had remembered what my mind had tried to forget.

Living Two Lives

I wonder if another reason so many women are exhausted is because they’re living two different lives.

There’s the surface life.

The one where everything appears to be fine.

Where you smile.

Where you reassure everyone that you’re okay.

Where you keep performing the role you’ve always played.

Then there’s your real life.

The one filled with grief.

Questions.

Longing.

Fear.

Hope.

Trying to keep those two lives running at the same time requires enormous energy.

Authenticity, while often uncomfortable, is surprisingly efficient.

Performance is exhausting.

Burnout isn’t always the result of doing too much.

Sometimes it’s the result of pretending too much.

Pretending you’re okay.

Pretending you’re not hurt.

Pretending you don’t want more.

Pretending you don’t need help.

Masks are heavy.

And here’s what I think most of us misunderstand:

Rest and restoration are not the same thing.

Sleep gives your body a break.

Restoration gives your soul one.

Sometimes restoration looks like laughing until your stomach hurts.

Dancing in your kitchen.

Saying no without apologizing.

Feeling deeply understood.

Doing something simply because it delights you.

Your nervous system recognizes those moments differently than it recognizes another hour of sleep.

So let me ask you a few questions.

When was the last time you laughed until you cried?

When was the last time you disappointed someone without apologizing for it?

When was the last time you spent an afternoon exactly as you wanted?

When was the last time someone took care of you?

When was the last time you felt completely like yourself?

The version of you who believes she must earn love...

Fix everyone...

Hold everything together...

Never disappoint anyone...

She is exhausted.

Not because she’s weak.

Because she’s been carrying an impossible job description.

Maybe your exhaustion isn’t your enemy.

Maybe it’s the most honest messenger you’ve ever had.

Maybe it’s quietly whispering,

“I can’t keep carrying a life that no longer fits.”

So before you ask yourself whether you need another nap...

Ask yourself a different question.

What if my exhaustion isn’t asking for more rest?

What if it’s asking for a different way of living?

Self-abandonment isn’t something that happens in one transaction. It’s small little ways you give up yourself over time. To see where you are on the scale, check out the free assessment tool. Simply click the button to take it.

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The Tarot Nook

Knight of Pentacles Reversed

When I turned over the Knight of Pentacles reversed, I expected it to be a card about work.

Instead, I think it’s a card about weight.

The Knight of Pentacles is known for his reliability. He keeps his promises. He does what’s expected. He carries the load, day after day, without complaint.

Those are beautiful qualities.

Until they become the reason you never stop carrying what no longer belongs to you.

As I reflected on this card alongside today’s blog, I realized something.

Maybe exhaustion isn’t coming from the weight itself.

Maybe it’s coming from carrying yesterday’s responsibilities into today’s life.

Sometimes we’re so committed to being dependable, responsible, and strong that we never stop to ask a simple question:

Is this still mine to carry?

The Knight of Pentacles reversed reminds me that there is wisdom in laying something down.

Not because I’ve failed.

But because I’ve changed.

Perhaps the most responsible thing we can do isn’t to carry more.

It’s to recognize when the journey has changed—and travel lighter.

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I wanted to go to bed and pull the covers over my head.

Not because someone had died.

Not because I had received terrible news.

Because I couldn’t choose a paint color.

There I stood in front of hundreds of paint samples for my home, feeling a wave of overwhelm wash over me. What color did I want for the living room? I had no clear vision. My mind felt completely blank.

It was only paint. If I chose wrong, I could repaint it.

And yet I felt paralyzed.

I gathered sample cards, brochures, and color palettes. I brought them home. I asked my children. I asked my girlfriend. I asked my assistant. I listened carefully to the designer.

Everyone had an opinion.

Except me.

Why was this so hard?

As I sat there surrounded by paint chips, a memory surfaced from kindergarten.

We were painting horses for our school performance.

I knew exactly what mine should look like.

Brown.

With a black mane.

When I reached for the brown paint, my teacher stopped me.

“There isn’t any brown left,” she said. “You’ll have to use blue.”

“A blue horse?” I asked. “There are no blue horses.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “Blue is what’s left.”

Unhappily, I painted my horse blue.

At the performance, two older boys walked by, pointed at my horse, and laughed.

“Don’t you know horses aren’t blue?”

I wanted to disappear.

Looking back now, I realize it wasn’t just about the horse.

It was the beginning of something much bigger.

It wasn’t that I made a bad choice.

It was that I learned my choices weren’t safe.

Years later, I didn’t struggle to choose a paint color because I lacked good taste.

I struggled because somewhere along the way, I stopped trusting my own judgment.

For years, I thought my indecision came from fear.

Fear of making a mistake.

Fear of being judged.

Fear of looking foolish.

Those fears were certainly there.

But they weren’t the whole story.

The deeper truth was this:

I had outsourced my authority.

Without realizing it, I had spent decades asking everyone else what they thought before asking myself.

What did my husband think?

What do my children need?

What would my mother say?

What does the designer recommend?

What do my friends think?

Everyone else’s opinion mattered.

Mine slowly disappeared.

Eventually, I stopped asking myself altogether.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“I don’t care.”

“What movie do you want to watch?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Which sofa do you like?”

“I’m fine with anything.”

Those answers sound easygoing.

They’re not.

Sometimes they’re evidence that we’ve become strangers to ourselves and our own desires.

I didn’t just outsource decisions.

I outsourced my authority.

I outsourced my opinions.

My happiness.

My desires.

My boundaries.

My joy.

Eventually...

I outsourced myself.

The strange thing about self-trust is that it doesn’t disappear overnight.

It fades through hundreds of tiny moments.

Every time I said yes when I wanted to say no.

Every time I swallow an opinion because it might disappoint someone.

Every time I ignored that quiet feeling inside me.

Every time I chose approval over authenticity.

I sent myself the same message:

Your opinion doesn’t matter.

After hearing that message for years...

Why would I trust myself?

Then I realized something that changed everything.

My inner voice had never disappeared.

She had simply stopped interrupting.

After decades of ignoring her, she became quieter and quieter.

Not because she had nothing to say.

Because she no longer believed I was listening.

The good news is that self-trust returns the same way it was lost.

One decision at a time.

People often believe confidence comes first.

I don’t think it does.

I think confidence is the result of making hundreds of imperfect decisions and discovering you survive every one of them.

You don’t trust yourself...

and then decide.

You decide...

and then you begin trusting yourself again.

An Experiment

For the next week, practice making one small decision every day without first asking anyone else’s opinion.

Choose what you want to wear.

Decide what sounds good for breakfast—not what you always eat, but what you genuinely want.

Pick the book that sparks your curiosity.

Take the walk that appeals to you.

Spend Saturday morning the way you choose.

These aren’t just decisions.

They’re repetitions.

Every choice is another repetition in rebuilding the muscle of self-trust.

Over the past several weeks, I’ve written about self-abandonment.

I’ve come to believe it rarely happens in one dramatic moment.

It happens through hundreds of tiny decisions.

Tiny compromises.

Tiny silences.

Tiny dismissals of your own voice.

Which also means the journey back happens the same way.

One small choice.

One honest answer.

One quiet act of listening.

Until one day you realize something remarkable.

You are no longer looking outside yourself for permission.

You have remembered something that was true all along.

You are a trustworthy source for your own life.

The Tarot Nook

The Queen of Wands Reversed

At first glance, the Queen of Wands reversed looks like a woman who has lost her confidence.

I don’t think that’s what she’s showing us at all.

I think she’s showing us what happens when we spend years asking everyone else who we should be.

The Queen of Wands upright trusts her instincts. She doesn’t wait for permission to speak, create, choose, or take up space. She knows her own mind.

Reversed, that certainty has been outsourced.

She second-guesses herself.

She asks everyone else’s opinion before honoring her own.

She confuses other people’s approval with inner wisdom.

As I looked at this card next to today’s blog, I realized something.

Perhaps I haven’t lost my confidence.

Perhaps I’ve simply stopped consulting the one voice that has always known the answer.

The Queen of Wands reminds me that my inner fire hasn’t gone out.

It’s just waiting for me to trust it again.

And maybe that’s what rebuilding self-trust really is.

Not finding a new voice...

But finally believing the one that’s been quietly speaking all along.

Harumph… I said under my breath as I put down the mystery book I was enjoying to respond to my daughter calling me from down the hall.

I won’t have to deal with my mom’s nursing home requests again… if I just let the phone go to voicemail.

My phone buzzed. “I’m so sorry. I have to cancel lunch.” I stared at the screen. And before I could stop myself… I smiled. Not because I’d miss her. Because I wouldn’t have to spend two hours listening to her problems.

Who was I becoming with so much resentment boiling under the surface? When did I become the kind of person who festered over small things? When did I let resentment take the driver’s seat in my emotional life?

I felt like I was becoming a bitter old woman.

I thought resentment meant people were asking too much of me.

But I was wrong.

The most uncomfortable truth? I wasn’t angry at them. I was angry at myself — for never saying no.

It meant I had stopped asking enough of myself.

Then I realized something that changed everything.

Resentment isn’t a character flaw. It’s a message. A message from the part of me I’d been ignoring for years. Not proof that something is wrong with me — proof that some part of me has been waiting far too long to be heard.

Resentment is like the ping on my phone — a notification to myself. It was never about my kids, husband, family, or friends. It has always been about ME and my inability to set boundaries and stand up for myself.

I have no problem standing up for my kids in any situation. But standing up for myself? That’s always been the problem.

And because I don’t honor my own boundaries — because I don’t take care of my own needs and desires — I feel resentful of others who are able to ask for what they want and get it. That they even know what they want in the first place.

Resentment is the red flag that I have abandoned myself — that I’ve been ignoring the desires of my own soul to placate everyone else’s.

This is what happens when you repeatedly abandon yourself in the name of keeping everyone else happy.

Every time I said yes when I meant no. Every time I swallowed my disappointment. Every time I convinced myself my needs could wait.

I left another small piece of myself behind.

Eventually, resentment came looking for me.

I’ve stopped seeing resentment as an enemy.

Now I see it as a compass.

It doesn’t point toward the people who are asking too much. It points toward the places where I’ve been asking too little of myself.

Too little honesty. Too few boundaries. Too little permission. Too little care.

Follow resentment long enough… and it won’t lead you to someone else.

It’ll lead you back to yourself.

I spent years thinking resentment made me a bad person. A selfish mother. An ungrateful daughter. An impatient friend.

It didn’t.

It made me a woman who had finally run out of ways to disappear.

If any of this feels familiar, the Self-Abandonment Compass™ below will help you see exactly where you stand — and what your resentment has been trying to tell you all along.

The Self-Abandonment Compass™

If you enjoyed reading about this topic, you might enjoy this post too:

The Tarot Nook

Four of Wands

This week I pulled the Four of Wands. This card is about Homecoming, Community, and Celebration after hard work. At first, it seemed like an odd match for a piece about resentment. Then I realized—finding your way back to yourself after years of abandoning yourself? That's exactly worth celebrating. Also, finally uncovering the connection between resentment and boundaries and making that connection is worth celebrating. Now you can see the benefit of establishing your boundaries, and that will help you live your best life. That is worth celebrating. The Four of Wands is the perfect card for where we are now! Go celebrate!

You’ve done everything right.

You built the career.

You raised the children.

You showed up for everyone.

You became the woman people admired.

So why, in the quiet moments, does it still feel like something essential is missing?

You’ve done everything right. And somehow… that’s exactly the problem.

I know this because I lived on the wrong side of it for decades.

I always wanted my husband to be proud of me, the way I was proud of him. I worked hard to be worthy of his love. I thought if I was successful enough, accomplished enough, good enough — my marriage would reflect that back to me.

I was wrong.

The Reality

Achievement is emotional camouflage. Focusing on achievement is safer than feeling. I’ve come to learn that success is actually a distraction — and a very convincing one.

The hidden cost of doing everything right is that you begin to believe your value lives in your performance, in your doing. This isn’t something you chose. It’s something you’ve learned, early, before you had the words for it.

As a child, I was praised for being a good girl. For doing what I was told. For being easygoing and not complaining. I was noticed when I smiled, when I got good grades, when I helped at home, when I made things easy for everyone around me. When we saw children who acted out, my parents would say how glad they were that I wasn’t like that. We performed as expected. And in return, we received approval.

That’s where the pattern starts. And once it starts, it doesn’t stop on its own.

Fighting for Good Enough

The connection of “achievement as love” gets embedded into your nervous system and becomes the fuel that runs you. You keep achieving because achievement keeps the fear quiet. You keep producing because your sense of worth has become tangled up in what you contribute to others.

Some adults spend their whole lives looking for emotional safety through money, achievement, control, perfection, never asking for help, staying relentlessly busy. Not because they love those things. Because it quiets the anxiety. Temporarily. Band-aids, not healing.

Your nervous system never learned what “enough” feels like — because enough was never the point. Approval was.

You believed that love follows achievement. Good grades and your parents rewarded you. Good wife and your husband was happy. Good mother and your kids turned out well. Good employee and you got noticed.

You built your entire sense of self-worth around those things.

Then you discovered that all of it was built on a false premise.

Emotional Safety

No achievement ever feels like enough because the goal was never really achievement.

It was emotional safety.

Emotional safety is the deep, internal feeling that you are okay — that you are worthy of love, belonging, and respect even when you aren’t performing, pleasing, producing, or proving yourself. It’s not about your circumstances. It’s about what your nervous system believes.

Many successful women aren’t driven by ambition alone. They’re driven by a longing to feel emotionally safe. Their nervous system believes that if they become accomplished enough, indispensable enough, admired enough, the quiet fear of not being enough will finally go quiet.

You learned this as a child.

While achievement can buy admiration, it cannot buy belonging. It can create confidence. It cannot create self-worth.

The Cost of Self-Abandonment

Your success, in many ways, has come at the cost of self-abandonment. Doing things for everyone else. Never pausing long enough to hear the voice inside you — the one telling you what you actually want, what you actually need.

By the time you’re finally able to focus on that voice, it has become so muted you can barely discern it.

You’ve built a life. But is it the life you wanted?

You’ve collected accomplishments, credentials, houses, promotions, investments. And yet what your spirit actually craves is something else entirely: awe, play, wonder, curiosity, delight, sensuality, intimacy.

Not more achievement. Presence.

Now Who Am I?

Your emotional upheaval from an empty nest or a divorce isn’t really about your kids or your ex. It’s about the identity your whole life was organized around. The calendar changes. The house changes. Your role changes. And suddenly the question — the one you’ve been too busy to ask — surfaces:

Now, who am I?

That question isn’t a crisis. It’s an invitation.

Divorce Released the Old Story

For years, I wanted the self-doubt to disappear. But the pain just followed me around, quietly insisting.

Then my life shifted in the earthquake of divorce. And something unexpected happened. I learned — slowly, imperfectly, undeniably — that I was good enough exactly as I am. My 67-year-old face was more than enough. My body, knees falling apart and all, was fine. The personality traits I’d spent decades trying to smooth away turned out to be endearing, not annoying.

I didn’t have to earn love. I never did.

I can make mistakes and still be lovable. I can disappoint someone without believing I am a bad person. I don’t have to be perfect to belong. I can express my needs without fearing abandonment. I am enough even before I do anything.

My nervous system is learning — finally — to relax and just be.

After the Shift, Here’s What I Know

I am enough.

I always was.

But now, I know it in my soul.

Perhaps that’s why so many successful women feel empty.

Not because they failed.

But because they spent decades trying to earn something that was never meant to be earned.

Love.

Belonging.

Worthiness.

Those things aren’t prizes waiting at the top of the mountain.

They’re what allow you to stop climbing long enough to finally come home to yourself.

Follow the Delight…

The way back isn’t through another accomplishment.

It begins the moment you ask yourself questions you’ve been too busy to ask.

• What delights me?

• What makes me lose track of time?

• What do I want if no one is grading me?

• What would I choose if I didn’t have to earn my place?

At first the answers may be quiet.

That’s because your own voice has spent years waiting patiently beneath everyone else’s expectations.

Know now that you are enough.

And you always have been.

The Tarot Nook

The Ace of Swords Reversed

This is an interesting draw. Upright the Ace of Swords in about mental clarity, breakthroughs, the truth cutting through confusion.

Reversed, the Ace of Swords is about the truth that’s been there all along, but couldn’t break through. It’s about confusion with your identity, and blocked clarity.

Your inner voice is muted.

So this is reinforcing the message of the breakdown of an old identity that allows for the real truth to cut through the confusion.

The truth wasn’t that you weren’t enough.

The truth was that you never had to earn enoughness in the first place.

You’ve been believing and living a story that was never true.

“What do you want?”

It should have been an easy question.

Instead, I froze.

Not because I didn’t have an opinion.

But because somewhere along the way, I had stopped asking myself and I had lost my connection with what it is I truly desire.

What is it I want?

I am renovating a few rooms in my house. Not a major remodel. Just changing a few things.

Still, there are so many decisions to be made, both large (what color should I paint the living room?) and small (do you want a 6 ’ tub or a 5’ tub?). Sometimes the decision is easy for me… other times I labor over it. I can’t decide. What is the right choice? How will I decide?

For those decisions, I ask my kids, my two girlfriends, who are designers, the contractor (who repeatedly tells me, "I’m not a designer, but here’s what other people have done), and I review the budget. Then, when I am really desperate, I ask ChatGPT what the right choice is.

But I noticed I never stop to ask myself what I want. What would I be happy with? What is it that will make my heart sing?

When did I stop asking myself what I want?

In a restaurant, I would ask others what they were going to order before I made my own decision. When I was getting dressed, I used to ask my husband which shoe was right for the dress. I asked for others’ opinions and discounted my own.

I have become a stranger to my own desires.

It wasn’t something that happened all at once. There was the slow grind of becoming smaller. Looking back, self-abandonment didn’t begin in my marriage.

I think it began in hundreds of tiny moments when I learned it felt safer to shrink than to shine.

• When I was 5, I asked my mom if I could dance for the guests, and she said no. Obviously, I wasn’t good enough.

• When I got dressed in my favorite outfit for free dress day at school, the kids at school laughed at my choices.

• When I swam in a race, my cousin told me I had the weirdest stroke he had ever seen.

I stopped dancing.

I stopped wearing wild colors.

I stopped swimming.

Every year, my world got a little smaller.

I admired people who took risks, but secretly resented them.

They were living the life I had quietly talked myself out of.

I became resentful of other people doing the things I wanted to do. I stop taking risks. My life grew smaller and smaller. I learned to accommodate others. I got disconnected from what brought me joy.

I let other people decide things for me, and I stopped putting up a fight. I stopped expressing my own desires. I became numb. I lost my confidence. I couldn’t make decisions anymore. I slowly started to disappear.

My life may have looked good from the outside, but it felt hollow on the inside.

And eventually, you believe that.

As women, we are taught to make sacrifices. We are taught that good mothers put themselves last. Good wives accommodate their husbands and kids.

We were raised to believe that honoring our own desires was selfish.

But there’s a difference between demanding your own way and knowing your way.

Something to think about

Some good questions to ask yourself are:

• What do I want more of?

• What do I want less of?

• What am I tolerating?

• What am I pretending doesn’t matter? (this one hurts…)

• If nobody would be disappointed, what would I choose?

• What have I been saying, “maybe someday” about for years?

Years ago, during another remodel, I discovered something interesting. The rooms where my preferences survived became the rooms I loved most. At the time, I didn’t realize what that was teaching me.

And now I have the ability to make my own decisions, and I’m in a tailspin from lack of practice.

The question now isn’t whether or not I’ve abandoned myself.

The question is whether I am willing to come back.

Because deep down inside, I do know the answers. I need to peel away the protective layers to get them.

Not through some grand reinvention.

But through a thousand small moments of asking, “What do I want?”

And then taking the time to listen carefully and discern exactly what that is.

Decision-making is a muscle.

And every time I choose something because I want it—not because someone else expects it—I do one more repetition.

I’m getting stronger.

It’s the small everyday decisions: What do I want for lunch, where to walk the dog, or even, am I hungry? Recognizing hunger and responding to it has become important.

And realizing it’s OK to sit and read my book instead of folding the laundry. The laundry isn’t going anywhere, and I can fold it when I’m tired, but I can’t read my book when I’m tired.

Making these small decisions and following my joy is helping me create the life I want, the life that is right for me. And in so doing, I am a role model for my children, so the generational trauma of playing small ends here. And that is the choice I make.

The Tarot Nook

Queen of Wands

This week’s card couldn’t have been more fitting: the Queen of Wands.

She is a woman who trusts herself. Not because she has all the answers, but because she has learned to value her own voice.

As I wrote this week’s essay, I realized how often I’ve looked outside myself for guidance—asking my children, my friends, the contractor, even ChatGPT what I should choose. The Queen of Wands quietly asks a different question:

“Have you asked yourself?”

She reminds us that confidence isn’t something we’re given. It’s something we build—decision by decision, choice by choice, until our own inner voice becomes the one we trust most.

Maybe that’s the real journey back from self-abandonment. Not becoming someone new, but remembering the woman who was there all along, patiently waiting for us to listen.

The Queen of Wands doesn’t dwell in the wound; she embodies the woman who has begun reclaiming her authority.

SIDE NOTE

If you live in the San Francisco area, my daughter and I are hosting Cacao Ceremonies with Sound Therapy. If you are interested, respond to this essay, and I can add you to the invitation list.

Who wrote the script that sex comes after crawling into bed at 9 or 10 p.m., when you are exhausted from taking care of everyone else all day?

Maybe that worked when I was 25.

But after kids? I couldn’t wait for them to go to bed so I could go to bed.

And yet there I was, lying beside my husband, feeling the quiet pressure to be available.

Not because I felt desire.

Not because I felt connected.

Because I thought that was what a good wife did.

I didn’t call it self-abandonment then.

I called it marriage.

I was in the trap of wanting to be “the good wife.” The wife who met her husband’s needs so he didn’t go looking elsewhere.

But no one ever talked about MY needs. NOT EVEN ME!!!

So who can I blame but myself?

I never spoke up.

(At one point, I did suggest we plan our sexual encounters. That thought was met with ridicule. “It’s supposed to be spontaneous!” After a long day of taking care of everyone else’s needs, spontaneity was not on the top of my mind. I wanted to bury myself in a good murder mystery, then fall asleep.)

The Good Girl Trap teaches us that to be loved, we have to be low-maintenance.

The Good Wife grew out of being the good girl. Doing as I was told, knowing what was expected and delivering it before I was asked, anticipating everyone else’s desires, and disregarding my own needs.

I had to be easy-going, responsible, considerate.

Somewhere along the way, I absorbed the hidden message that other people’s comfort was more important than my own truth. And my truth got buried.

I wasn’t praised for knowing what I wanted. I was praised for accommodating everyone else's wants. That’s the trap.

The Rewards

I didn’t just sacrifice myself for others willy-nilly. No. I was rewarded for the sacrifice. I got called “kind,” “generous,” “thoughtful,” “dependable,” and “a good girl.”

I was good at delivering for everyone else at my own expense.

The qualities I was being praised for were the very qualities that caused me to disappear.

I’ve spent decades being indispensable because I don’t know who I am or what I really want. I just felt NUMB.

Being a good person and being a self-abandoning person are NOT the same thing.

It is possible to be generous, loving, supportive, and compassionate without disappearing.

Where to go from here

Take an inventory of where you are and how you got here. Answer the following sentences.

• I am often praised for being: ________________________

• The thing I rarely ask for is: _________________________

• I feel guilty when: _________________________________

• The last thing I did just for myself was: _________________

Then ask yourself which version of you is getting all the attention? And which is being neglected?

For years, I thought being a good woman meant being selfless. I saw my mother live that out.

Now I see things differently.

A woman who constantly abandons herself doesn’t become more loving or more loved.

She becomes less alive.

The Great Return to YOU begins when you stop asking:

“What does everyone else need from me?”

and begin asking:

“What do I need from myself?”

Spend some time thinking about what it is you truly need.

The Tarot Nook

The Four of Pentacles Reversed

This week’s card is the 4 of Pentacles Reversed.

Upright, this card is about control, holding on tightly to security, old patterns, feeling safe.

Reversed, the card asks, What am I finally ready to let go of?

For years, I held tightly to the identity of the Good Girl. The helper. The caretaker. The one who made life easier for everyone else.

It was a survival strategy to earn love, a sense of belonging, and approval.

But it came at a cost.

Somewhere along the way, I began holding onto those identities more tightly than I held onto myself. I had imprisoned myself in these identities.

The 4 of Pentacles Reversed asks, "What are you ready to release?”

Perhaps the Great Return to YOU isn’t about becoming someone new.

Perhaps it’s about loosening your grip on who you had to become in order to be loved.

The Shadow Question

The card may also be asking, "What are you afraid will happen if you stop being the Good Girl?”

Most women don’t hold onto self-sacrifice because they enjoy suffering.

They hold onto it because they’re afraid of what comes next.

• Will people be disappointed?

• Will they call me selfish?

• Will they still love me?

• Will I still belong?

Those are very 4 of Pentacles Reversed questions.

See this next week as the loosening of a grip that has been held tightly shut. Add some ease into your day and your thoughts.

My college friend commented that she could see bits of my old self returning. I looked at her quizzically. Yes, she said, you disappeared under the weight of your marriage.

I laughed it off at first.

Disappeared?

What was she talking about?

But as I sat with it, memories started surfacing. The clothes I stopped wearing. The opinions I stopped expressing. The spontaneous parts of me that slowly went quiet. The way I began checking his reactions before I acted or spoke.

I hadn’t even NOTICED until she made that remark– but now that she said it, I could FEEL what she was referring to…

I had gone from living in full color, larger than life, audacious me, to a flat-Stanley version, black and white, experiencing life through others’ eyes and not my own. I had buried myself to fit into the “wife” mold that I thought was demanded of me for a successful marriage.

How did it happen?

How could someone with such a large personality allow herself to be whittled down to a mere splinter of myself?

The stronger and more adaptable you are, the more capable you become of reshaping yourself to maintain relationships. People think strong women are immune to self-abandonment. Sometimes we’re the most vulnerable because we’re so capable of adapting.

The change wasn’t one big event. It was death by a thousand papercuts— little remarks here and there that closed the doors of my personality.

The Passing Remark that Woke Me Up

One day, while walking in downtown Petaluma, I commented to a woman walking by about how nice she looked. Just a random remark because I like to notice people.

My wasband said, “Do you HAVE to talk to strangers on the street like that?” (He said it in a rather nasty tone…)

My stomach dropped.

I felt myself go quiet.

Not because of the comment itself, but because I suddenly understood what he was criticizing.

I make an effort to recognize people and say something because I believe people don’t feel seen or appreciated. I believe a small remark like that can make a person’s day. To notice someone and to say something is like a gift you give a person. A gift of delight… a light that shines on the inside.

Suddenly, years of similar moments came rushing back. The times my wasband rejected something I had done that he didn’t approve of. And I had the realization at that moment that the relationship was doomed. When he rejected such a pivotal part of who I was, I realized he didn’t like me at my core.

That was June. He asked for the divorce in September.

I was cut free.

Now I could be fully myself without worrying about his perception.

All the things I had stopped doing, fearing his disapproval, I could now do again.

I could be myself.

But after so many years of shutting down, the rebirth takes time. At the moment, I felt rejected and like a failure. I had failed at this long-term marriage.

The Unfolding

As time has gone by and more of myself has come back online, I realize what a great gift he has given me. The gift of myself.

The funny thing is, when he told me he wanted a divorce, he said I would be able to do what I wanted now. That felt so off-putting at the time.

People talk a lot about finding themselves.

That isn’t what this feels like.

I haven’t found myself.

I know exactly where she was.

Folded up carefully and stored away.

I thought the divorce was the end of my marriage.

Now I see it was the beginning of my return.

Every week, another forgotten piece unfolds.

A desire.

An opinion.

A curiosity.

A boldness.

A voice.

After years of shrinking, I am learning to take up space again.

The Great Unfolding has begun.

The Tarot Nook

The Queen of Swords

This week’s card was the Queen of Swords.

She is often described as perceptive, independent, and unafraid of the truth.

As I reflected on this week’s story, I realized the Queen wasn’t asking me to become someone new. She was asking me to see clearly.

For years, I told myself a story about who I needed to be in order to make my marriage work. Little by little, I folded away parts of myself until I could barely recognize the woman underneath.

Then my friend spoke a simple truth:

“You disappeared under the weight of your marriage.”

The Queen of Swords reminds us that truth can be painful, but it is also liberating. Once we see clearly, we can begin to reclaim what was lost.

The Great Unfolding begins with a single act of courage:

Looking honestly at what is.

“Gunnar (my ex) is a great guy…”

My partner looked at me, surprised. “That’s the first time you’ve said that. What’s great about him?”

I sat there thinking about this. “Well,” I said, “he’s great at making money.”

“Yes, and…”

“He’s a great cook…”

That was all I could come up with. My partner tried to help:

“Did he make you feel great? Did you feel loved when you were with him? Did he listen to you? Did he support you beyond the financials? Did he recognize your needs?”

I sat there.

Then I realized the truth.

I had spent YEARS convincing myself that my husband was a great guy because I needed to believe that myself.

That thought suddenly rose to the level of my conscious mind.

I had to believe that, or I would have wasted 30 years…

The Real Cost of the Relationship

What I had been ignoring for all those years was the price I paid for the relationship; the small ways, over time, that I was eroded… How I lost MYSELF…

It started out so small I didn’t notice… the compromises that didn’t seem that important at the time; the attempts to keep everyone happy at the cost of suppressing my own desires, the need to put a good face forward and never realize what was going on in the background. The marriage. The kids. My mother. Always trying to appease.

I knew everyone else and their needs but had no idea who I was anymore and what it was I wanted. I had compromised myself so often that I completely lost myself.

When someone asked me what I wanted… my brain was empty. A void. I learned to deflect. “What are you having?” or “What would YOU like to do?”

There was none of ME left inside my body.

THAT’S self-abandonment.

A survival strategy.

Now I recognize it. When it tries to take over my body, I feel it. I try to resist, but the force is strong… I focus on bringing myself, Alicia Berberich, back. It’s taken a year and a half to recognize the problem and build that awareness.

Now the work starts. To tune in to my desires, reconnect with my body, ignite my curiosity, harness the power of my agency, build my future the way I want it, learn to trust myself and my decisions, and learn to love myself.

Resentment as the Alarm

For years, I thought resentment was proof that something was wrong with me.

Now I see it differently.

Resentment is often the sound of an abandoned self pounding on the door.

It is the part of us that knows we have said yes when we meant no.

The part that remembers dreams we dismissed, needs we minimized, and desires we buried.

At 67, I am finally opening that door.

And every time I listen, I find a little more of myself waiting on the other side.

The Fire Alarm

Self-abandonment doesn’t disappear quietly. It accumulates. And eventually it surfaces — often as resentment toward the people around us.

It was 10 am. I was working at my desk. Suddenly, the fire alarm went off. After I peeled myself off the ceiling, I went to investigate. No fire. Just my daughter in the shower after her run…

Turns out the steam particles in the air set off the fire alarm.

The fire alarm is there to notify us of an urgent need. It doesn’t have the power to analyze the situation to determine whether the change is okay. It just announces the situation.

Resentment is like our internal fire alarm. When we feel overwhelmed inside, we project resentment outward. For example, my daughter tells me I am interfering with her business by pushing my ideas on her. I get upset and take it personally. But the real problem is that I am unable to set my own boundaries, while she has no problem setting boundaries. I admire that she can establish boundaries, and I am mad at myself. I let everyone interrupt me at will. Then I explode for no apparent reason, which is the result of not setting boundaries.

The resentment I feel is like the fire alarm going off, signaling that something is off.

I learned people-pleasing behavior: be flexible, easy-going, and helpful. Then something small happens, and I become irrationally upset. Someone crossed my boundary… But the problem is, I never communicated that boundary, so people are unaware.

Or I have an expectation I hold and don’t communicate, and then feel disappointed or resentful that I am disappointed.

The problem is, I know what I want, but I’m not communicating it and hoping that others will just get it. Then I am disappointed when they don’t, and I feel resentful. “If they loved me, they would know.”

For years, I wanted a particular handbag. (I am a bit obsessed with handbags…) I told my now ex I wanted it for Christmas and my birthday. He knew. But he never got it for me. He got me equally expensive gifts, but never what I wanted. For me, that was painful. Like my desires didn’t matter. When I voiced my desire, it was ignored. So I stopped voicing it. I told myself it didn’t matter.

For years, I suffered from that disappointment. I could have always purchased the handbag for myself. But that’s not what I wanted. I wanted to receive it as a gift.

Instead, I learned not to have expectations to avoid getting upset. I pretended it didn’t matter.

I further abandoned myself.

The Resentment Test

Here’s what I started doing — and I want you to try it too. Complete this sentence:

I resent….

Write down 10 answers.

Then ask:

What need of mine is hidden underneath each resentment?

From my handbag example above, the need I had that was unmet was the need to be heard and valued.

Then ask:

What part of this situation have I been tolerating that no longer feels aligned?

See what you come up with.

Learning

The next time resentment appears, don’t rush to get rid of it.

Listen.

It may be the part of you that has been ignored for years finally finding its voice.

Not to shame you.

Not to punish you.

But to guide you back to yourself.

Resentment isn’t a character flaw. It’s an invitation.

A smoke signal from a part of you that’s ready to come home.

I am Alicia Berberich, and I am navigating the waters of divorce and reclaiming myself after years of self-abandonment. Join me on this journey by subscribing to my newsletter. Also, I guide women going through a gray divorce and can support you on your journey. Contact me if you would like a deeper conversation.

The Tarot Nook

Ace of Pentacles Reversed

Traditionally, the Ace of Pentacles represents a seed of opportunity, value, and potential. Reversed, it asks us to look at what isn’t being nurtured.

As I reflected on self-abandonment, I realized that my desires never disappeared. They simply stopped receiving attention.

Each time I silenced a preference, ignored a need, or convinced myself that what I wanted didn’t matter, I left another seed unwatered.

Resentment may be what happens when those forgotten seeds refuse to stay buried.

The Ace of Pentacles Reversed asks me: What am I finally willing to invest in?

At 67, my answer is simple.

Me.

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She stood on the line. Eighteen thousand eyes on her. Her teammates were counting on her. Her coach knew she could do it. The roar from the fans was deafening.

Yet she stood there looking calm.

The pressure professional athletes handle with aplomb is unbelievable to me. So much is riding on a single moment. To perform something you have done thousands of times before—successfully and unsuccessfully—at the exact moment the skill is needed.

I find it awe-inspiring.

Doing What You Do

When it comes to handling pressure, one coach advised his team to “treat it like an ordinary Tuesday.”

Don’t make it bigger in your mind.

That free throw? You’ve done it a thousand times. You can do it now. It’s just another free throw.

What fascinates me is that the athlete’s body already knows what to do. The challenge isn’t usually physical. It’s mental. The mind starts adding pressure, expectations, consequences, and what-ifs.

The body knows the move.

The mind interferes.

And that’s what impacts us every day of our lives.

The Big Question

Is your mind supporting you or making things harder than they need to be?

I’ve been thinking about this lately because I have what appears to be an organization problem.

My brain likes to fill space.

I have little mementos, books I want to read, notes I need to remember, papers that require action, projects in progress. If I clear off my desk, it feels wonderful—for about fifteen minutes. Then life starts happening again and the piles begin to reappear.

For years I thought the problem was clutter.

Now I’m beginning to think the problem is unfinished business.

The Reality of the Situation

Take my desk.

The backflow paperwork from the city needs attention. That means calling a plumber and scheduling an appointment. The birthday card for my cousin needs a photo printed before I can mail it. There are forms to sign, emails to answer, decisions to make.

Each item represents something incomplete.

And because I don’t want to forget them, they remain visible.

The paper stays on the desk.

The card stays on the desk.

The reminder stays on the desk.

Before long, there isn’t even room for my coffee cup.

But the pile isn’t really paper.

The pile is decisions.

The pile is postponed action.

The pile is promises I’ve made to myself.

The pile is dozens of open loops quietly asking for attention.

Every unfinished task occupies a tiny piece of mental real estate.

Remember to call the plumber.

Don’t forget the card.

Need to answer that email.

Must schedule that appointment.

None of them are particularly difficult. But together they create a constant low-grade hum in the background of life.

Death by ten thousand paper cuts.

What strikes me is that it isn’t usually the big things that exhaust us.

When something major happens—a divorce, a move, a remodel—we rise to the occasion. We give those things the attention they require.

It’s the accumulation of unfinished little things that slowly drain our energy.

The Situation IRL

I’m in the middle of remodeling my house. The contractor and I were laughing recently about a punch-list item from my first remodel twenty years ago.

The vanity under-counter lights had been marked on the plans.

They were never installed.

Twenty years later, I told him I would still like those lights.

Twenty years.

One tiny unfinished item that somehow survived two decades.

Apparently unfinished business is very patient.

Moving Forward

The good news is that awareness changes everything.

Once you see the pattern, you can interrupt it.

I used to tell myself I needed to become more organized.

Now I think what I really need is to become a finisher.

Not someone who does everything perfectly.

Not someone who never has unfinished projects.

Just someone who closes more loops than she opens.

Someone who takes the next shot.

Because that’s what the athlete standing on the free-throw line does.

She isn’t thinking about the final score.

She isn’t analyzing what happens if she misses.

She isn’t replaying the last game.

She takes the shot in front of her.

Then the game moves on.

Maybe that’s the lesson.

Not organize everything.

Not solve every problem.

Not figure out the next ten years.

Just complete the next thing in front of you.

Close the next loop.

Make the phone call.

Mail the card.

Take the shot.

Because perhaps the path to a calmer life isn’t found in managing more.

It’s found in carrying less.

The Tarot Nook

Knight of Swords Reversed

This week’s card was the Knight of Swords Reversed.

At first glance, it felt like a card about frustration and lack of progress. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized it was describing the very thing I had been writing about.

The Knight of Swords charges ahead. Reversed, his energy becomes scattered. He starts many things and finishes few. His attention is pulled in a dozen directions at once.

Sound familiar?

My desk certainly thought so.

The card reminded me that movement and progress are not the same thing. Sometimes we are incredibly busy but not actually moving forward because our energy is fragmented across too many unfinished pieces of business.

The antidote isn’t to move faster.

It’s to focus.

One phone call.
One email.
One form.
One shot.

Perhaps the path forward isn’t found in doing more.

Perhaps it’s found in finishing what is already asking for our attention.

Dead

The car wouldn’t start. Nada. Nothing.

In my mind, the battery was dead. But my experience with autos is generally: Put in key. Turn key. Car starts.

So this was disconcerting.

In a situation like this, my answer is: Call AAA.

My boyfriend said the answer is O’Reilly’s Auto Parts.

Out came the old battery. In went the new battery. On went the car. (love those prepositional phrases…)

Amazing.

Having Agency

What I love about this is that I would have easily given my agency over to AAA for them to work their magic car-fixing skills.

But here, I felt like I kept my agency. Sean, from O’Reilly’s, came out and tested the battery to confirm it was well past its prime. He recommended a new battery and provided the tools for installing it (which did involve getting hands dirty…).

By going to O’Reilly’s, I felt empowered… I had AGENCY. I didn’t have to stand helplessly by the side of the road waiting for AAA to arrive like the prince on the white horse. I wasn’t waiting to be rescued… I was making things happen.

But I got to thinking… Maybe the battery was just a symptom of something else. The battery didn’t stop working because of a moral failure on my part. Maybe I need to understand why the battery died—what was going on that led to its untimely death?

For this, I needed to investigate the system that runs the car: was the ignition ok? Were the lights ok? What indicators were popping up on the dashboard?

The Negative Voice In My Head

All of this made me think of the negative voice in my head. That voice is like the warning lights on the dashboard. That voice isn’t random. When that negative voice pops off, it’s the warning light for a deeper internal problem. That problem usually revolves around fear, protection, or old conditioning. The negative voice is my defense mechanism, trying to keep me safe.

Killing the Messenger Isn’t the Answer

Most people try to silence their inner voice without understanding what it’s trying to accomplish. Maybe instead of trying to silence the voice, the goal should be to understand what it is trying to protect me from, or what is going on at a deeper level.

The voice is part of a deeper internal operating system designed to keep me safe from rejection, disappointment, failure… but the problem is this has become a system of limitations. And it is using out-of-date survival strategies that once helped me (like when I was 5 years old…), and now it restricts my growth.

When that negative voice arises, I think about what I might be afraid of… For example, before I teach a water aerobics class, I am nervous that I will forget what I’m doing mid-stream. I try to shift that fear into understanding that the people in the pool are all supportive and want me to succeed, because then they will succeed. I leave my fear in the locker room.

Or I’m afraid that I’ll have to go somewhere, and the car won’t start. Now I have the power to figure that out!

The Accelerator Method

I developed the Accelerator Method to address the negative voice and help reframe the issue. It harnesses the power of loving-kindness to rewire your brain, rather than trying to fight it. To find out more about The Accelerator Method, click the red button below.

The Accelerator Method

As it turns out, I had left the car's interior light on in the garage. It ended up draining the battery. Lesson learned. Turn that light off.

And when that negative voice in my head berates me for doing something stupid, I can admit that I was careless, and it’s a good lesson to learn. Then let it go. Acknowledge and release.

The Tarot Nook

8 of Wands Reversed

Upright, the eight of Wands is about fast movement, momentum, and energy flowing freely.

Your internal system is working, and your energy flows naturally.

1. You make decisions.

2. You recover from mistakes.

3. You communicate clearly.

4. You trust yourself.

Reversed, the energy is blocked. The intention is there, but it can’t get through. The negative self-talk runs in a loop.

It’s NOT about lack of willpower or motivation. Something INTERNAL is crossed or tangled.

When the system is disrupted, everything becomes harder than it should be.

1. You overthink simple decisions.
2. You avoid necessary conversations.
3. You criticize yourself instead of adjusting.
4. You want change but cannot seem to create momentum.

What you need to do here is rewire your nervous system so it no longer sees growth as a danger.

More on this next week.

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There is a strange in-between time in life that can feel haunting.

You aren’t sure what’s around the corner. You hear strange voices in your head you can’t identify. The road divides and you have no idea where either path leads. You feel suspended between what was and what might be.

It’s an unsettling place to live.

This is the chrysalis stage.

The period after the caterpillar—but before the butterfly.

From the outside, the chrysalis looks inactive. Still. Quiet. Nothing much happening.

But inside?

Everything is reorganizing.

The caterpillar is literally dissolving before it becomes something new.

Transformation is exhausting because something old is ending before something new has fully formed.

And that phase is rarely acknowledged for what it is.

We tend to think something is wrong with us when we feel uncertain, indecisive, emotional, disconnected from ourselves. We tell ourselves we should have clarity already. We should know what we’re doing. We should “snap out of it.”

But maybe this phase isn’t dysfunction.

Maybe it’s development.

What if You Force It?

Here’s the thing about the butterfly: if you see it struggling to emerge from the chrysalis, your instinct might be to help. You want to relieve the struggle. Ease the transition. Pull away pieces of the shell so the butterfly can get free faster.

But interfering with the process destroys the butterfly.

It needs the struggle to be strong enough to survive on the outside.

The pressure of pushing its way out strengthens the wings enough for flight.

You cannot rush transformation. Rushing destroys the outcome. Human transitions work the same way.

Divorce. Empty nest. Retirement. Reinvention. Grief. Career change. Illness. Loss.

There are seasons where your old identity no longer fits, but your new identity hasn’t fully formed yet.

And those in-between spaces can feel terrifying because you no longer recognize yourself.

You aren’t who you were.

But you aren’t yet who you’re becoming either.

That doesn’t mean you are lost.

It means you are in transition.

Power In Naming It

There’s power in naming it.

When we say:
“I’m in transition.”
we give the experience validity.

It shifts the internal dialogue from:
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
to: “I am becoming someone new, and that takes time.”

That shift matters.

Because when we don’t understand what’s happening to us, we often panic. We mistake transition for failure. We think our uncertainty means we are weak, broken, lazy, or wasting time.

But the chrysalis is not wasted time.

It is necessary time.

And perhaps the reason this stage feels so disorienting is because identity change is profound work. It takes time to change how you see yourself. It takes time to loosen old patterns, old roles, old ways of moving through the world.

Especially for women.

So many women spend years being needed by everyone else that when life changes—when the children leave, the marriage shifts, the career ends—they suddenly feel untethered.

Not because they have failed.

But because the structure that defined them is gone.

And now comes the deeper question:

Who Am I Now?

That question cannot always be answered immediately.

Sometimes it has to be lived.

Slowly.

Patiently.

One decision, one realization, one boundary, one new choice at a time.

Giving yourself grace during this process changes the experience entirely.

Because maybe this strange, uncomfortable, uncertain phase isn’t proof that you are falling apart.

Maybe it’s proof that you are changing.

And maybe the reason you don’t fully recognize yourself right now… is because the old version of you no longer fits and the new one hasn’t fully arrived.

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Today’s Tarot Nook

Knight of Wands Reversed

I pulled the Knight of Wands Reversed. The Wands are about passion, movement, creative drive. I think about will power and direction when I’m looking at wands. Reversed turns this inside.

One of the hardest parts of transition is the urge to force movement before clarity arrives. We become restless. We want answers. Direction. Momentum. We want to feel like ourselves again.

But sometimes the reason forward motion feels difficult is because something deeper is still reorganizing beneath the surface.

Don’t confuse MOTION with alignment. Lack of clarity isn’t failure, you just aren’t fully formed yet. Your GPS is disconnected and needs time.

Give yourself the grace you need and time. Whatever you are going through now, allow yourself to be at this stage. Don’t rush it. Take the time you need.

Have a great weekend!

If you want a private tarot reading, let me know! I am available for private consultations.

Another post you might enjoy from Boudoir Banter:

Noticing

I was 6 years old when I first remember my mom rearranging my room. She had natural creative energy, and when it was ignited, she was on fire. My room was very tiny, with a twin bed, a tall dresser, a little dresser, a doll cabinet, and a closet. It was off a dark alley, with no natural sunlight. Mom got a burst of energy and moved my bed from one wall to another, tried the dressers in different places, and moved everything around. Every piece was reconsidered.

Mom worked hard to create a beautiful, flowing environment. When she was done, everything felt different, even though it was all the same pieces in the same dark, little room. Now they were in new locations. My room felt different. So did I. I felt empowered in my “new” space, more grown up, more in control.

The Impact of Change

When you change your environment, the way energy moves through it changes as well, and, in turn, it changes how you are in the space.

This memory flooded back recently as I watched the movers empty my home of all its contents. I could feel the energy shifting as four men carried the upright piano down the stairs. It was the last piece to go. Now my house echoed.

When you’re going through something… whether it’s divorce, empty nest, retirement… any major transition… changing how the energy moves shifts your whole way of being.

Is it The Space or is it ME?

My kids and I moved into a temporary apartment while our house is being renovated.

Temporary.

That word is dangerous.

Because it makes you think: why bother? Why invest time, effort, and attention into something that isn’t permanent?

This line of thinking can put you in LIMBO. Waiting. Paused. Living in a kind of no man’s land.

I could feel that happening.

My new space quickly took on the same energy as the old one:

• Scattered

• Overwhelming

• Unfinished

And I didn’t like what it reflected back to me.

The Opportunity

Luckily, May began the “Spring Edit” series for an online program I’m taking through the School of Self-Image.

According to Tonya Leigh, founder of School of Self-Image:

“Every room in your home tells a story about how you see yourself. Is it in a state of chaos? What does that tell you about how you see yourself? Is your room your sanctuary, or a mere afterthought?”

The Hard Truth

As I looked around my room, I thought about its state. It looked like a very busy person lived there who took very little time for her self-care and maintenance. It seemed like the person who lived there might be filling her life with STUFF because, on the inside, she felt empty. Maybe she was scattered because she didn’t really know what to do with herself… What is her purpose? Why is she here? What is the greater meaning of all of this?

That was a hard truth to sit with. But I sat there in it.

The Perspective Shift

What I could see was how the room reflected my own lack of self-worth. I made the decision to decide who I wanted to be in this space. I decided that by the end of May, my room would reflect a successful woman who is dynamic and in control of all aspects of her life, who takes the time to care for herself and her possessions. I decided chaos would no longer rule the day. I wanted to be surrounded by a beautiful space.

From there, I challenged myself (with Tonya’s pushing) to create a room that would match this woman. I will create a space for me to be that woman in this room: intentional, relaxed, organized, everything in its place. (Secretly, the thought of this scared me crazy since I’ve lived in chaos for as long as I can remember.) But I didn’t let that fear stop me…

Start Small

I started with the bookcase. I took EVERYTHING off all of the shelves and put it all on my queen-sized bed. Then I went through the books one by one to determine my relationship with each book. (Hello Marie Kondo) When I moved into our temporary apartment, all the books that came with me (a very small portion of my full library) were shoved onto the shelves wherever there was space. Now I was taking the time to discern which books went where and with whom. (I have a very intimate relationship with my books…)

As I got the books organized, I could feel the weight of their chaos lifting from my shoulders. There was a great sense of relief that only a true book lover or control freak can feel when things fall into their right order. This was just round one.

Revealing The Real Problem

Here’s what I realized:

I can’t just organize the space, because then it would revert to the way it was, as it has for many years. The mess I had created was indicative of something else going on that needed to be addressed before the problem would solve itself. What is the invisible problem BENEATH the visible problem? Why does my space always return to chaos? Why can’t I get control over my space/self?

Suddenly, I started to understand: The problem wasn’t the room. It was the version of me living in it.

I can organize a space a hundred times. But if I don’t change the IDENTITY behind it, it always returns to what it was. For me, that is a messy space and scattered environment reflecting scattered thinking.

Not because I’m not capable. But because my environment is reinforcing who I believe I am.

The real question isn’t How do I organize this?

It’s:

Who do I need to be in this space?

Once I answered THAT, the work became different. It wasn’t about cleaning up; it was about aligning who I want to be with who I really am. It is about understanding that I don’t have to be go-go-go all the time. It’s about understanding that I am worth a beautiful environment. I am worth wearing the expensive clothes. I am worth the fresh flowers. I don’t need to nickel-and-dime myself into “making do” with discarded remnants. I am worthy of space. I can take up space, and it’s OK.

In Temporary Digs

I walk my dog on new streets. The sounds are different. The restaurants are different. The people are different.

It’s only six blocks from where I lived before… but it feels like a different world.

And in a way, it is.

Because I’m different in it.

This isn’t about a room. It’s about how I show up in my life—especially when everything feels temporary, uncertain, or in transition.

I thought I needed a better system. What I needed was a different version of me. A version that understands that I am good enough exactly the way I am, and I am worth taking the time and making the effort to live my best life. I don’t need to abandon myself to be accepted by others. It is, in fact, because of who I am that I am loved. I just need to believe that myself.

And what about you? This version of you?

She doesn’t wait for the space to change.

She changes how she lives in it.

Why not join us for the challenge this month?

Pick a room and decide what you want to feel like in that space.

Then create the space to match.

Become the person you want to be… fully.

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The Tarot Nook

by The Velvet Deck

For this blog, I drew the Hermit card in reverse.

When the Hermit card is upright, it is about introspection, solitude, and inner guidance.

When it is reversed, it’s about being disconnected from yourself, while still searching externally, avoiding deeper reflection by staying busy or being distracted, and wanting clarity without creating the space to hear it.

This perfectly aligns with this blog. The message here is I don’t need more ACTIVITY, I need to slow down and reconnect with myself.

Stop focusing on looking outside for solutions. The true solution is inside of you. BAM. The truth can hurt, and it can also set you free.

If you would like a personal tarot card reading, click the link below to get in touch with me.

When I read a top-notch mystery book, every detail presented counts. While I’m reading the book, I don’t know the big picture, so I don’t know how the details will fit in. It all becomes clearer as I progress through the book and see how the pieces fit together like a puzzle.

The mystery is weakened by the author's inclusion of extraneous details. Then, at the end of the book, there are open loops.

Why did the author include certain details if they weren’t relevant to the story?

Some people might call these details “red herrings,” but I call them weak writing.

Elizabeth George is the mystery writer who is the master of details and every point matters in her mysteries.

IRL

That’s how it is in real life.

The chance meeting.

The awkward silence.

The misstep.

The broken engagement.

The divorce.

The move.

You live your days without knowing how it will all fit together. You meet someone and have a random conversation. You think that’s it. Then you run into them at an event and reconnect. Then it turns out you have a mutual friend. Then you introduce that person to another person, and they do a business deal, or date your sister. Would any of that have transpired if you hadn’t had that random conversation in the beginning? Was the conversation random????

The thing about the red herrings is that they are like the bright shiny objects in your life that distract you from staying your course. You think something will be the solution, but it ends up being a distraction.

How do you differentiate distractions from courses?

This is the key. Your life can go in so many ways. You make decisions every day that impact your direction. You have a “course correction” mode. This is what moves you as you stray off course and brings you back on track.

The Impact

Divorce totally changed the direction of my life. Suddenly, I went from the shotgun position to the driver's seat. I had to start making the big, impactful decisions that would change the direction of my life. How did I want my life to be at this new junction?

Now that I know the divorce was coming, details from the previous year have become clearer. I had a new perspective. But I couldn’t have had that perspective until the divorce was on the table. It cleared up a lot of the whys.

I am currently renovating my house. It requires so many changes. Finding an apartment to live in while the work is being done. Moving out.

Ha ha. It sounds so simple. Moving out. Two words. Moving out entails dismantling everything that was. Take apart the systems, routines, habits, and all shifts.

I walk Cooper on different streets. The smells are different. The sounds are different. The restaurants are different. The people are different. It’s only 6 blocks, and yet it is a completely different world.

We were living on four floors. Now we live on one floor. Frankly, I like it better. Everyone is close. But there isn’t much privacy. Maybe privacy is overrated?

I am dealing with all sorts of new people making so many decisions every day my head spins.

But it’s all good. The energy is shifting. The cloud is lifting. I am creating the life I want. I am taking control of my life.

No more passenger. No more shotgun. Driver.

Before the Shift

One summer, we had a family driving vacation in Europe. Driving on unknown roads can be stressful because you have to make decisions, and even with GPS, the roads can be confusing. I chose to sit in the back seat and let one of the kids sit in the front seat to monitor the GPS and directions. They were good at it. I released control and was able to enjoy the vacation. Had I been sitting in the front seat, that would not have been the case. (Unless, of course, I was driving. I like driving… I think navigating is exponentially more difficult.)

Red Herrings

The pleasure in reading mystery books is in the unfolding. How small details are revealed and understanding how they fit into the big picture.

That is how it is in life. You don’t understand the big picture, but you need to keep showing up to see how the small details fit together.

And those red herrings? Those are the lessons you learn along the way that make fodder for stories.

Go through life with the Monty Python attitude: always look on the bright side!

The Shift

Don’t get me wrong… I am a HUGE proponent of setting goals and moving toward your dreams. That comes with being a driver.

What if you don’t have big goals?

You have the option of living one day at a time. I question the fulfillment in that. People thrive when they have a purpose and feel needed and useful.

You can have a short-term goal. Getting through this move was my short-term goal for this week. But that was part of a bigger-picture goal of making my house MY house, with things I LOVE. Of NOT accepting things as they are, but CREATING what I want.

Especially as we get older, we need more DREAMS to pull in the direction we desire.

A woman I met last week is retiring soon. I pushed her to visualize the life she wants. Not to focus on “retirement”.... (you can’t THRIVE by what you’re NOT doing… you need to be doing something!). Create an image or dream of what you want and think about it every day.

The shift I have made is from accepting what is… letting someone else create my dreams… to creating my own dreams. I have big dreams which are unfolding… Follow along here to find out exactly what they are!

Don’t get distracted by red herrings along the way!!

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The Tarot Pull

The Ten of Swords Reversed

The card I just pulled fits this blog so perfectly that I can hardly believe it. Upright, the 10 of Swords is about endings, betrayal, it’s over. I got this card just before Gunnar told me he wanted a divorce (right along with the Tower card… I mean, was that a difficult time or what!!)

The 10 of Swords REVERSED is about the aftermath… all the hard stuff has passed, and now there is the phoenix rising from the ashes. Well, not quite that far YET, but it is about the slow lifting up and realizing everything will be alright. (Is that a song?)

The card underscores that it is hard to understand everything in the midst of it, but things will clear, and you will be able to move on… You get the perspective AFTER it is over. Before, in my life, it was hard to see the big picture, but now, with the worst behind me, I can see how it all fits together and move forward.

You know, if you want a tarot reading, I do readings for other people as well!

End Note

I write this blog every week in hopes that you, the reader, will find some nuggets to help you on your journey. The path forward is not always clear, but know that you are here for a reason, a purpose. You need to keep moving forward, even when it is challenging, so that you can reach the other side and uncover the reason for the journey.

You are not traveling alone.

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There’s a moment no one talks about it. That feeling you get after you realize it’s not going to work. Your marriage. Your business. Your dreams. Gone up in smoke. Maybe you spent years building it… but now… flush.

My girlfriend said to me the other day, as her marriage of 30 years came tumbling down around her, “I feel like a failure.”

Intellectually, she knows she’s NOT a failure. She knows her husband is not a failure. The relationship just wasn’t working the way they had hoped.

The pressure of life became too much and their dream world came crashing down. The question is: what’s next?

When you’re standing in the hovel of detritus, what do you do? How do you regroup? Promises made were broken. Trust is shattered. What are the next steps?

It’s hard to be level headed, calm, and thoughtful when you just want to kick someone in the shins, call them a fucking asshole, throw things at them.

Venting can be helpful to get the emotional energy out of your body, but it creates a whole different sort of mess. Which will require cleaning up.

The thing is… after my wasband said he wanted a divorce, I felt like I was a failure because my marriage failed. I felt like I could have done things differently, or understood what was happening and made changes.

But hindsight is 20/20.

And then there is that belief that everything happens for a reason and then I spend hours trying to figure out the reason.

And there are those people who say there is no failure, only lessons. So what are my lessons here?

How does one take that “failure” energy and turn it around into something productive and not Hallmark Greeting Card-esque?

Here’s what I’ve come to believe:

You have a choice.

You can take that energy and turn it into:

• self-blame

• regret

• contraction

Or…

You can transmute it.

(Not in a woo-woo way—in a very real, practical way.)

The Shift

Instead of asking:

“Why did this happen?”

Ask:

“What do I want to do with this?”

Because you may never fully understand why.

But you are 100% in control of: what you build next

A Better Way to Work With “Failure”

Here’s how I work through it now:

1. Separate Facts from Story

Fact: The marriage ended
Story: I am a failure

These are not the same

2. Extract the Data (not the drama)

• What did I learn about myself?

• What will I never tolerate again?

• What do I want more of next time?

3. Reclaim Your Agency

From this: “This happened to me”

To this: “Now I choose what happens next.”

4. Channel the Energy

That restless, emotional, uncomfortable energy?

It’s fuel. Use it to:

• create

• decide

• move

The Truth No One Tells You

Sometimes things don’t work.

Not because you failed.
Not because they failed.

But because…
they were only meant to take you this far.

And now?

You’re standing at the edge of something new. You have so much further to go!

Final Thought

You are not starting over.

You are starting from experience.

And that is a very different place to begin.

Before my Aunt died, she told me to fight for what I had with Gunnar. (She was VERY trad-Catholic.) I thought about that. I decided what I had with Gunnar was good for a time and now the time has changed.

There is no going back to what was because we have grown beyond that. We could come together to create a new relationship if that was the desire, but we have both evolved.

When you are facing an ending, it’s worth looking at what you got out of the relationship, what you put into it, and how you would like your next relationship to be different.

What I have found is that I fall into old ways of being out of habit… I see old patterns emerging. And I don’t choose that. I want things to be different going forward. So what can I actively do to ensure that my next relationship is different?

1. Being really conscious of my actions and decisions.

2. Being open and communicating with my partner.

3. Not burying how I feel for the sake of “the relationship.”

4. Taking the time to understand what it is I do want on a conscious level so I can speak up.

I am sure I still have a lot of lessons to learn through this process. But one thing I know for sure: there is no going back. What was is no more. And frankly, it wasn’t that great. Now a whole new world has opened for me. Yes, it is scary at times and I do fear being alone in my old age, but knowing that fear allows me to address it. The me that has evolved in this process wouldn’t fit in the space that I’ve left behind. I’m like a tree that has been repotted in a bigger urn… now my roots have space to grow and stretch.

I am just beginning. At a whole new level.

More on defying old beliefs:

The Tarot Nook

King of Swords Reversed

I pulled the King of Swords reversed to go with this reading. Upright, the King of Swords is about clear thinking, truth, and emotional leadership. Reversed, he’s about distorted thinking, self-criticism, harsh criticism, and misuse of logic to justify pain.

Isn’t that EXACTLY what we’re doing when we label ourselves a failure when a relationship falls apart?

The mind is biased toward blame. It will try to turn failure-energy into self-blame and call it logic.

Know this: not everything can be solved by thinking harder. Sometimes you have to release the old to make room for the new. If you try to drag the old along, your progress will be deterred.

And it’s rarely an easy process. To recognize that something is not working and then take the steps to change it. Change is hard. No. I mean hard. Harder than that. But diamonds don’t come easily.

Sometimes problems can be solved with love. The analysis can lead to the proverbial paralysis.

So when you feel the King of Swords reversed energy trying to drag you down, shift your thinking, move into action to change the energy. Take control of your thinking. Look forward, not backward. What can you do today to make for a better tomorrow?

At 67, I realized something else entirely was going on.

I realized that I have ADHD.

I finally put all the pieces together.

So many of the elements of my life that frustrated me now have an underlying foundation.

As a young child, I tried so hard to be neat and organized the way my mother wanted me to be, but it was impossible. I am like the Tasmanian Devil, stirring up dirt and chaos whenever I enter a room. I start projects and somehow can’t finish them. I can focus and get things done, but only under the duress of a deadline. I have blamed it on the bright shiny object syndrome for years… But it turns out it is more than that.

Signs and symptoms of ADHD in a woman over 65

It’s not like I’m a complete disaster. I have systems in place to keep me sane. My glasses, hat, keys, and phone I leave in a particular spot: my jacket pocket. OK. Maybe it doesn’t seem logical to you, but I am always walking the dog or running errands and throwing on my jacket makes it easy. I may look like a bit of a bum with weighed down pockets, but it works for me.

Where do my systems break down?

I have 1001 unfinished projects. I have taken courses called FINISH just so I can figure out how to complete what I start… but it doesn’t happen. I tell myself (so unproductively) that I have the attention span of a flea… The truth is, I just get distracted. For me, it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind. Which means my desk is a wasteland of unfinished projects waiting patiently for me to reengage with them… but there are too many more pressing items jumping into the forefront of my mind. Bills, taxes, insurance, spreadsheets, holy guacamole thinking about it makes me dizzy.

I’m not great at multi-step processes. This has become so frustrating because since my pending divorce, I have to monitor my financials which require 2 step authorization and I somehow haven’t got it set up right on either my or my computer and it never works and I have to get a new password which requires I check my email, but it hasn’t come in yet, so I look at the other emails… and I am lost in the chaos of the email scroll…. Never completing the assignment I started.

If it’s simple, I can do it. But somehow everything seems so complicated.

And there are the ENDLESS interruptions between my kids, the dog, the doorbell, my phone, etc. Funny that I have to leave my house for privacy.

My environment feels out of control. I get overwhelmed by simple decisions. Prioritizing is challenging because everything was due yesterday. I can’t start a new thing because the old things are tumbling down all around me.

• I know I am intelligent and capable, and yet I somehow can’t get my life together.

• I can’t blame it on the divorce because I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember.

• And my mind is always going, going, going… racing ahead…. Waiting for the rest of me to catch up.

And the battles I had with my mother growing up… I drove her CRAZY. She always told me to engage my brain before engaging my mouth… it just never happened. Things slipped out of my mouth that should never have…But yes indeed… said it. Other, more empathetic people thought it… but I put a voice to it. Which inevitably led to a face slap or hairbrush over my bum, compliments of my mom.

What about taking things personally? So sensitive to rejection. Not being able to bounce back, but hiding it from everyone. Pretending I’m fine. It was nothing. Don’t let anyone know they have the power to hurt me.

ADHD in Women Over 50

Do you have any of these symptoms?

• You’ve been holding it together for YEARS, then your house of cards collapses.

• You are high-functioning and constantly EXHAUSTED.

• Clutter builds up externally while inside you feel clear.

• You are constantly filling spaces both physically and mentally

• You have difficulty with systems, even though you CRAVE order

• You are constantly reinventing yourself.

For years I masked my symptoms with responsibility, intelligence, and coping strategies.

Some people look at my disaster-of-a-desk and think “LAZY”, or that I lack discipline, or that I have a character flaw. And I myself thought I had a character flaw. I just didn’t understand what my problem was.

And then I read about it. My brain regulates differently. Something about my dopamine regulation is off. This impacts motivation, focus, and follow-through. And when this is constant over time and shows up in multiple areas of your life, and interferes with daily functioning and causes stress— it’s a problem.

I have a weird glitch in how my brain translates intentions into action.

The Foundational Shift

And then— here’s what happens: the external structures that were keeping in place suddenly were kaput.

The kids all went away. I had been a “slave” to their schedules: getting up, driving, feeding, everything revolved around their schedules which kept me going.

Then, with the divorce, and moving back to the city, my daily routine was shot. I had to create a new routine. And in the process, my ADHD tendencies took over. I couldn’t figure out how to organize myself.

The Futile Attempts

I did what any woman in my position would do: I hired an organizer.

I went through several before I found one whose brain I could follow. She put things in logical places.

But she could only help with my external battles. The internal battles still raged. And if you saw my very large dining room table, you would immediately and unquestionably understand. Paper strewn about. Obvious attempts at organizing the disaster, but nothing completed.

I think back on the years of trying to get this together. My sister gave me Christmas presents for organizational days. She is very organized, sets up systems, but there was no maintenance. I couldn’t keep things going. I got overwhelmed.

I often thought back to Ty Hicks, whom I worked with in advertising. We knocked off at 5 pm. At 4:40 pm, he stopped whatever he was doing, no matter what it was, and put everything away, leaving his desk clear. If he had a few minutes left over, he would come and check on me, still sitting there trying to crank out work. Productive till the last moment, leaving my desk in a disaster when it was time to go, not wanting to disturb my “system.”

I tried the Ty HIcks method, but I had an overriding code that said, “one last thing… one last thing…” and in the end, I was always there late doing that one last thing. Ty’s mind was orderly. My mind is more a process of random connections (aka: chaos).

My New Plan

Adderall is the obvious solution.

But I hate to take drugs.

What else could I try?

I needed a clear, simple process that could work the way my brain works so I don’t get overwhelmed in transitions.

This is what I am trying (as the method for this month) to see if it works:

I will manage three things per day. (A simple Dr. Seuss strategy system.)

1. Thing One: One Anchor Focus

   1. What is the one action I have to accomplish TODAY?

Maybe it’s to outline my blog or decide on the moving company or whatever it is, the ONE THING.

2. Thing Two: One Environmental Reset

   1. Pick one small, definable space to organize. Not my entire closet. Not my entire desk, just one small, manageable part.

   2. There must be a visible DONE state that I can witness so I know the job is DONE.

3. Thing Three: One Energy Anchor

   1. I have to move my body. Whether it’s water aerobics, weight training, walking, salsa dancing, whatever. This will help to stabilize my nervous system.

4. Close the loop: when I see things that need to get done, I write them in my calendar for that will be the Thing One. Assign it a date. Then it will close the loop because I’ll know when I can do that.

According to neuroscience, this process should work because it reduces decision fatigue, creates dopamine hits through completion (visible wins), will shrink overwhelm, and build trust in myself. That way I will do what I say I’m going to do.

This is shifting my identity in a big way from: I need help to “I am a woman who creates order in small, powerful moves.”

As you discover your old systems are no longer working for you and you are feeling overwhelmed, consider building simpler systems, with a more intentional structure with a rhythm that works with you instead of creating pressure for you.

The Tarot Pull

For this blog, I pulled the Six of Swords. This is the card of transition… moving from rough waters to calm waters, from one way of being to another;

It struck me that this is exactly what this moment feels like. A quiet crossing.

For years I thought something was wrong with me. I wasn’t trying hard enough, I had to be better. I was ashamed of my environment. But now I understand that my brain works differently.

Nothing about my past has changed, but everything that relates to it has.

And now I feel like I am moving into calmer waters.

I understand myself better and can move forward with clearer intentions.

It’s like when you go to the doctor and they don’t know what’s wrong with you versus you getting a clear diagnosis. The unknown is crippling… How can you move forward with clarity? You don’t know what’s wrong. But when you have a diagnosis, you can figure out your path. Now the path is clearer.

A missed appointment. A forgotten bill. The growing pile of papers unsure what to do with. The frustration of business being online and her lack of wherewithal in how to deal with it. The slow loss of control. The greater loss of self. The identity slips away, leaving a body with a mind elsewhere.

What happens when Alzheimer’s takes over your brain?

Where does your identity go?

The Process

I watched as my mom slipped away. There were moments of cognition in between the segments of confusion. She would slip into her old self. She had been a great athlete in her youth, and she prided herself on her ability to stand on one leg and put her pants on without aid at 89. She liked to do things herself. Stubborn was a compliment for her.

She was so many things that I wasn’t. She was decisive. Determined. Inflexible. Adamant.

From the outside, she seemed hard.

She was hard.

Who She Was

She grew up believing there was a right way to do everything, and that was the way it was to be done. She didn’t accept slipshod work. She had standards. Very high standards.

As one of her three daughters, I am surprised she didn’t spend more time teaching us the right way to do things. She had a great sense of style, but shared none of that with us, except maybe in a negative remark when we didn’t meet her standards.

She was a home economics major because it was one of the few options available to her in college. But she wasn’t an award-winning cook by any means. She had 10 regular meals she rotated through… fried liver and onions my least favorite… right up there with stuffed bell peppers. Meatloaf. Pork chops. With apple sauce, of course. Right out of The Brady Bunch.

She had excellent posture until she didn’t. One day, she couldn’t stand up straight anymore. We lifted her up, and she curled right back over.

How she loved to read. It was a great escape for her. Mysteries. (The apple doesn’t fall far…) British mysteries. Not gore. Not psychological suspense.

Mom was wicked at playing cards. She’s been playing cards since she took the train to high school. Her group played on the train. Bridge. Canasta. Hearts. They were a tight lot. Separated by marriages. Even as her memory faded, she still beat us at cards. It was uncanny.

She grew up in the church. Her uncle was a parish priest. She always helped out there with her mother, my grandmother. When we moved west to California, she enjoyed working in the church. She felt at home there. She kept the linens ironed, the silver polished, the candles ordered, and the music on key. She also fixed all the flowers. She worked so hard for that church.

Not that anyone from the church has visited her since her mind went on a separate sojourn. The new priests don’t know her, have no memory of her, and all the years she dedicated to the parish. How she worked so hard to make their lives easier. That’s the problem with moving the priests around so much. Loss of continuity. Loss of respect. Loss of connection.

Where did she go?

If you look in her eyes, the spark is often still there, lighting up her face. She had so much energy.

The person she was is no more. But for that little spark. It’s hard to explain.

They debate over when a fetus becomes human and has a soul. When does a body lose its soul on the other end of the lifeline? When is it ok to say goodbye?

Tonight, my friend said goodbye to her dog. Milo had been a family member for 16 years. He was suffering. It was time.

Why is it we respect that with dogs and cats? What about the people who have served us well and are ready to move on? Can they not end respectfully? With dignity?

In Lois Lowry's The Giver, when a citizen reaches a certain age, they are released. No one really understood what exactly that meant, but it becomes clear in the story. The person’s usefulness is deemed over, and they are “retired.”

We don’t attempt to make that judgment call. We let people suffer with the loss of identity, loss of bodily control, loss of ability to feed and care for themself, loss of their minds, and linger on… for years.

I sit with my mom as she speaks nonsense. But I can see the gleam in her eyes. The bright blue-grey eyes that have seen so much and are now left to this small enclosed world of hers. I would love to talk to her. Ask her about her own divorce. How it felt to sleep alone. What she enjoyed most about her years. What she misses most right now. I would love to ask her about falling in love with my dad and her wedding. Silly topics that I didn’t think about before. And now it’s too late.

She doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t know I am the fruit of her womb. I smile at her and listen as she babbles on. And then she puts her head down and falls asleep, only to wake up 5 minutes later because lunch is served, and she loves to eat. She eats more than I do. Finishes every last bite. A habit leftover from her childhood. The Clean Plate Society.

Every time her living facility calls, I wonder if this will be THE call. I answer with great trepidation. No, not yet. Needs more diapers.

What is left

The funny/awkward thing is… my mom still carries the essence of my mom. It’s amazing, really. How she relates to the caretakers at her facility. She winks and smiles at John who brings her coffee with sugar because he knows she loves it that way. She always was quite the flirt. How she laughs when the caretakers dance and sing for them. Her way of being in the world is somehow the same… her energetic imprint is still there. Her energy is still that of my mother. She is somewhere inside there. When she touches me, the impact on my body is the same. Her tone is there. How she makes eye contact and insists upon it when she’s speaking to me. That underlying sense of who she is lingers on. The history is gone. But something is there…

The Impact on me

I go through my day and then remember something I’d forgotten to do. I panic. Will I follow my mother’s footsteps? Is someone coming to steal my mind? I try to relax and tell myself my brain is sharp and healthy.

Which is my mom’s problem. She is so healthy, strong, determined. But her memory…

Her sense of self is gone. She doesn’t know who she is. Or who I am. Or my sister. But she’s still happy to see us and to drink coffee with us.

I tell my daughters everything I can think of that they might want to know. Probably too much… but just in case.

I read every book on prevention. I analyze all the factors of my mother’s life. But her brother has it… and her sister….

They said they don’t see any genetic markers in me.

It must be the liver and onions.

Or stuffed bell peppers.

I never wanted to eat those.

Could it have been the orange flavored Jell-O? Or chocolate pudding?

NO. Liver and peppers.

Good to avoid.

What Does the Tarot Suggest?

After writing this, I pulled the Queen of Wands.

At first, it didn’t make sense. This card is about vitality, presence, life force… and Alzheimer’s feels like the opposite of that.

But then I realized…

Maybe this isn’t about what’s being lost.

Maybe it’s about what remains.

Because even as memory fades, there is still something unmistakably her.

And maybe my role now is not to reach for what’s gone…

But to meet her in what is still alive. To connect with what is possible. Accepting what is and moving forward with that.

She is still inspiring others. In that way, we are the same.

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Somewhere along the way, I learned that pleasure had to be earned.

Not explicitly. No one sat me down and said it outright.
But it was there… woven into the fabric of how I lived my life.

Work first.
Take care of everyone else.
Be productive.
Be useful.

And then… maybe… if there’s time left over… I can have a little something for myself.

(And even then, don’t get too comfortable.)

For me, that “something” has always been reading.

I love reading. I always have.
But for most of my life, reading during the day felt… indulgent. Almost irresponsible.

Reading was for before bed.
Reading was for Sundays.
Reading was for when everything else was done.

Which, as you can imagine… was basically never.

The Challenge that’s Changing Things

This year, something shifted.

Madde suggested we all set a reading goal.
Three books a month for me.

On the surface, this is not exactly groundbreaking. I already love to read.

But what changed was when I allowed myself to do it.

Instead of scrolling on my phone in those odd pockets of time—waiting rooms, plane rides, the in-between moments of the day—I started reading.

And something surprising happened.

I felt happier.

Not in some dramatic, life-altering way.
But in a quiet, steady, almost sneaky way.

Like I had given myself access to something I didn’t realize I had been withholding.

Why the Delayed Gratification?

And it made me wonder…

How many of us are doing this?

Delaying the very things that bring us joy.
Treating pleasure like a reward instead of a way of living.

We don’t just postpone pleasure.
We learn to distrust it.

We tell ourselves:

• I’ll relax when everything is done

• I’ll enjoy myself later

• I’ll take time for me… eventually

But “eventually” has a way of never arriving.

Just Do It!

There is something oddly rebellious about reading in the middle of the day.

It feels like breaking a rule you didn’t even realize you were still following.

And maybe that’s why it matters.

Because it’s not really about the book.

It’s about choosing yourself… in a small, almost invisible way.

Between the Covers

For the record, I’m not reading philosophy or anything overly intellectual.

I love a good historical murder mystery—something that drops me into another time and place.

Recently, I read The Murder in the Ruins by Clay Rademacher, set in Hamburg in 1947. It was so vivid I practically needed another sweater just to get through it.

I’m currently reading The Beauty in Breaking by Michele Harper, which is a completely different experience—raw, human, and deeply reflective.

I have a strange love for colorful vocabulary (thank you, Vocabulary for the College Bound Student… and Sister Rita, who still flashes through my mind every time I come across a word I recognize from that book).

(And yes… I judge authors who overuse phrases. How many times can a phrase be used in the same book, like “flotsam and jetsam?” [Jess Kidd in Murder at Gulls Nest]. Some words deserve to be used sparingly.)

Boundaries are Necessary

I am particular about what I read. I noticed something else about myself.

I don’t like being told what to read.

I used to be in a book group, and every month I would resist the assigned book until the very last minute.

Because it felt like work.

And I have enough work.

I want to choose what I immerse myself in.
I want to choose the voices I let into my head.

Because the truth is… we become what we surround ourselves with.

I’ve always said you become like the five people you spend the most time with. (Ask my kids… they will tell you I always say that.)

I think books count too.

The characters we spend time with…
The worlds we step into…
The energy we absorb…

It all shapes us.

Which is why I avoid anything too dark or violent.
Those images don’t just disappear. They linger.

And at this stage of life, I am much more intentional about what I let live in my mind.

Reality is intense enough.
I don’t need to add more darkness to it.

New Rules

So now I read.

In the middle of the day.
Without earning it first.
Without waiting for everything else to be done.

And it feels… different.

Lighter.
More alive.
More like I am actually living my life instead of managing it.

You may also enjoy reading my story about desire:

What about YOU?

So here’s what I’m wondering…

What is one small pleasure you’ve been postponing?

Not the big, life-changing thing.
Just the quiet one.

The thing you tell yourself you’ll get to… later.

And what would happen if you stopped waiting?

Libraries are one of my joy places…

Maybe it’s reading.

Maybe it’s something else entirely.

But maybe… just maybe…

This is the part of life where we stop earning our joy
and start allowing it.

The Tarot Pull

Three of Swords

Sometimes I pull a card and think, “Oh–this is so PERFECT!”

Other times, I pull a card and think, “What?”

Today I pulled the three of swords to go with this blog.

I sat wondering what the message is here.

The three of swords is about heartbreak, sorrow, and grief, all nestled in truth. And the truth can hurt, and it also sets you free.

And that is what I gather the meaning to be here.

Because for me, to deny myself reading because I feel guilty follows the old pattern of denying small joys, believing that pleasure has to be earned, that work comes first, and pleasure is delayed…

It’s a story of self-abandonment.

As women, we go last, get the leftovers.

Joy must be justified.

Today, this card is showing us this truth, and it’s waking us up to this habit.

It’s telling us it’s time to change. That we are actually guilty of delaying or denying ourselves this pleasure.

The shift is: start with dessert. Who the hell cares?

Stop denying yourself pleasure.

Enjoy all the moments of your life.

Not just those few scraps at the end of the day, once the kitchen is cleaned and the dog has been walked, and you get to take a breath.

Make your pleasure a priority.

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They end because, over time…two people slowly stop meeting each other.

Divorce happens when people don’t want the next 20-30 years to be like the last. It is painful, expensive, and greatly impacts the entire family, not just the husband and wife.

What if you still love your wife, but yearn for the excitement that led you to get married in the first place? What do you do?

Here are some strategies to re-ignite that old flame.

Garden Your Relationship

First of all, realize that after 20 years, the connection doesn’t just disappear. It has stopped being tended to. Probably a long time ago. Relationships are like a garden. They require constant care. When you forget to water it, it dries up. You stop being the top priority for each.

The change usually begins when you have kids. Then everything shifts. Hormones, bodies, attention span, and so much more. The kids become your wife’s priority.

At first, my husband and I had the prescribed weekly date night. But he traveled a lot, was tired, and just wanted to stay home… so those faded away. Then he wanted to go out with the kids because he hadn’t spent as much time with them as I did. So we had family adventures. Those didn’t fuel our relationship.

Bridge the Distance

The message here is– you’re probably not the only one feeling the distance. If you feel lonely, I bet hands down she does too. So what do you do?

What I needed from my husband and never got was recognition, acknowledgement, and witnessing. No one ever says, “Hey! Thanks for always having clean socks in my drawer for me!” Or “Thanks for picking up the dry cleaning!” Just taking a moment to acknowledge what she’s done, and been doing for years that no one sees. Even just having milk in the frig for breakfast takes remembering and buying it. The more you witness her, and appreciate all she does the more she will feel seen and in turn will mirror that back to you. Then, you will both feel seen and heard.

Create Romantic Moments

What if you feel like romance has been missing in your marriage for a long time? Remember– Romance doesn’t return on its own— you have to reintroduce it. Romance isn’t about grand gestures—it’s about intentional attention.

What would you do if you were romancing someone new? Maybe send flowers? Plan a nice dinner date where you don’t wear jeans? Send a card to say you’re thinking of her? Maybe plan a weekend away? Small little actions can reap big rewards here. Think about what you did in the beginning to get her to fall in love with you!

Deep Conversations

One thing that draws people into relationships are deep conversations. Taking the time to talk about how you feel, being vulnerable, opening up. These kinds of conversations are important for a long term relationship. You guys aren’t co-managers of the household or logistic partners. You are committed life partners and the element of vulnerability is the difference. You go DEEP.

To do this, you start. Open up. Tell your wife how you feel. You might start by saying you love her and are committed to her and you really want to work on the relationship together. Tell her exactly how you are feeling.

You might catch her off guard if you’ve never done this before, so proceed with care.

The Cost of Routine

One of the things that kills romance is routine. When you are in your routine, you’re on automatic pilot– executing… not FEELING. To revive excitement, introduce novelty. I’m not saying plan to go sky diving together, but you might! Start by making plans for the weekend. Do it on Monday, so you both have something to look forward to. Maybe it’s a picnic or a trip to the museum to see a new exhibit, or reservations to a new restaurant that’s opened… something fun and exciting to look forward to. You can ask her what she’s going to wear so she can start to think about it. Make it a nice event. Do this on repeat so you build excitement into your relationship.

Remember: She’s a Woman

Take the time to let your wife know you see her as a woman. Maybe ask her, “What’s something you’ve been thinking about that you haven’t said aloud?” or “What’s been on your mind lately that has nothing to do with the kids or the house?”

The Benefits of Anticipation

Think about how you can build up anticipation. This was definitely missing from my relationship. I tried to convince my husband that we should plan intimacy for Friday nights, but his response was that intimacy can’t be planned.

Well, that is just wrong. You can plan intimacy. Having the time and space to focus on each other. Not making other commitments because you know that evening or afternoon is special. Preparing for the time…

The Beginning of Intimacy

Remember this critical key: Intimacy starts long before the bedroom. It’s how you hold her hand when you’re walking, or touch her arm as you walk by, or look into her eyes when she’s talking to you.

Don’t expect to “just do it.” Plan romance and quality time together. The build-up of tension and something to look forward to is exciting when you plan all week and talk about it ahead of time.

One thing I wish my husband knew was the importance of touch without expectation. This is huge and I don’t think it is often talked about. When touch always leads to sex, touch disappears. (READ THAT AGAIN.) Touch itself is so sensual, but when it comes with the knowledge that penetration is next, it distracts from the beauty of the touch.

An evening when one person is focused on and gets touched all over by the partner is very sensual. Then on another night, change places. And set the boundary beforehand that the outcome is not sex. It’s touching tenderly. To reconnect.

The problem for me is that sex was painful after menopause. Since my divorce, I learned that I didn’t have to experience that. I found solutions. Make sure your partner is not suffering and that the experience is positive for everyone.

My husband always said, “men need a place, women need a reason.” He should have taken his own advice. Women are in their heads and sex isn’t just a head game. If your partner is lying there waiting for it to be over, something definitely has to change. You have to help her turn her head off and be in her body and feel her body. Talk about this in advance… put all the cards on the table. Together, you are a team.

Venting vs. Fixing

Also, since I have your attention here men, let me tell you one other critically important point. Men are hardwired to fix things. Your wife comes with a problem, and you try to fix it. What you are telling her is that she is incapable of doing it herself. Here’s the thing: sometimes women just need to VENT. She just needs you to listen, to witness her. To support her. You don’t have to be logical or find a solution unless that is what she is asking for. So when your wife comes to you, ask her, “Do you want me to listen or help solve? Are you venting or looking for solutions?”

That alone will save you so much tension!

The woman you fell in love with is still there. She didn’t disappear. She didn’t stop loving you.

She just stopped feeling met. And the truth is… she’s probably waiting. Not for perfection. Not for grand gestures. But for you to see her again. And she is probably eager to be seen.

Go make some plans, play her favorite song, dance in the kitchen… Remember the fun moments.

Reconnect.

All I can tell you is—it’s worth it! You are worth it. She is worth it. Go at it! Rekindle your passion.

Worth reading:

Tarot Pull

10 of Pentacles Reversed

The energy of this blog really comes through this tarot card, which I drew randomly from my deck.

The 10 of Pentacles right side up is all about long-term stability, family legacy, security, and the life we built together.

In reverse, it asks: at what cost?

It reveals that everything looks good on paper, there is a functioning household, financial security/success, but underneath, there’s emotional discontent, a lack of intimacy, and feeling like roommates.

So that’s what happens when the romance fades, passion is gone, and you stop seeing each other.

So reread the blog, and take action. Put the steps into practice.

If you would like more posts like this, comment below.

Leave a comment

Intimate conversations for women 50+ going through a big life transition (empty nest, divorce, widow, retirement, etc.) reawaken their desire for intimacy, create a new identity, and overcome generational trauma—paired with exercises, affirmations, and weekly Tarot card readings.

Hey there,

Welcome to Boudoir Banter.

If you’re here, something in your life has shifted.

Maybe not loudly.
Maybe not in a way anyone else can see.

But you feel it.

In the quiet moments.
Early morning. Late at night.
Sitting in your car before you go inside.

Something is different.

And the questions have started to creep in:

• Is this it?

• When did I stop feeling like myself?

• What do I actually want now?

• And why is that so hard to answer?

Let me say this clearly:

Nothing is wrong with you.

But something in you has been quiet for a long time.

This isn’t about becoming someone new.

It’s about coming back to the parts of you that got put away.

Who Is Boudoir Banter For?

This is for women 50+ standing in a moment that doesn’t have a clear name.

But it feels like an ending.
And a beginning.
At the same time.

💔 Women navigating endings

The marriage that looked fine from the outside… but felt empty from within.

The relationship you stayed in longer than you should have — because leaving felt harder than staying.

Or the loss that changed everything, and no one really knows how to talk to you about it anymore.

🏡 Women in life transition

The kids are gone.
The career is slowing down — or already behind you.

And suddenly, no one is asking anything from you the way they used to.

Which sounds freeing…

Until you realize you don’t know what to ask of yourself.

🔥 Women who feel something stirring again

A flicker of desire.
A pull toward something more.
A quiet voice saying, there is more life here than this.

And almost immediately:

You question it.
Shut it down.
Tell yourself it’s too late, too complicated, or not worth disrupting your life.

If any part of you feels like it has been muted, managed, or pushed aside…

You’re not imagining it.

The Things No One Says Out Loud

Most women don’t talk about this stage of life honestly.

So let’s. Here are the problems as I see it:

Problem #1: You move through your day… and nothing really lands

Not joy. Not excitement. Not even sadness the way it used to.

Just… neutral.

You get through the day. You check the boxes.

But you don’t feel much of it. You are completely numb.

Problem #2: You don’t actually know what you want anymore

You’ve spent years — decades — being who other people needed you to be: daughter, wife, mother, partner, caretaker…

So when you ask yourself, What do I want?

There’s a long pause.

Problem #3: Your desire didn’t disappear — it just went dormant…

I don’t know about you, but after I gave birth to my twins, and then another baby a bit later… my body felt haggard… I didn’t want to be touched AT ALL. To say nothing of the extreme exhaustion I felt…

And slowly, my husband and I drifted apart… no more date nights… no more twosome vacations… no more kind words… just daily details…

And then, after 30 years, we divorced.

I realized I wasn’t done with sex and intimacy at all. I needed an awakening. And that is what I’m experiencing.

To feel desire awakening is a wonderful thing. And then I ask… now what?

You wonder:

• Is this real?

• Is this appropriate?

• What would I even do with this?

Problem #4: You feel alone in a way that’s hard to explain

You can be surrounded by people…

And still feel like no one really sees you anymore.

It’s the Invisibility Syndrome that’s overtaken the Imposter Syndrome.

Problem #5: You want more — and immediately judge yourself for it

More connection.
More aliveness.
More truth.

And then the voice comes in:

Shouldn’t I just be grateful?

Problem #6: You live in your head instead of your body

You think about everything.

Analyze. Rationalize. Minimize.

But you don’t actually feel very much.

You are not at all in your body.

Problem #7: You realize how long parts of you have been gone

And you don’t know whether to feel sad…

Or angry.

Problem #8: You don’t have a map for this version of life

There was a script for everything before this.

Now?

You’re on your own.

Problem #9: You keep defaulting to the life you already know

Not because it fulfills you.

But because it’s familiar.

Comfort is easier than the unknown.

Problem #10: You’re trying to figure all of this out alone

Because where do you even go to talk about this… honestly?

Who wants to hear that sex is painful, that you yearn for closeness, that you want to be seen, heard, understood, cared for?

What You’ll Find Here (Every Week)

This is not a place for surface-level advice.

This is where we tell the truth.

The Conversations You Haven’t Been Having

About desire that didn’t disappear — it just didn’t feel safe to exist.

About relationships that looked fine… but felt empty.

About the moment you realized:

I don’t want to live on this shallow level anymore.

Reflections That Actually Change Something

Not just ideas.

But questions that stop you.

Sit with you.

And slowly start to shift how you see your life — and yourself.

A Return to Your Body

Because this isn’t just about thinking differently.

It’s about feeling again.

• noticing what you’ve been numbing

• reconnecting with sensation

• allowing yourself to experience pleasure without immediately shutting it down

A Different Kind of Forward

Not starting over.

Not blowing up your life overnight.

But beginning to make small, honest choices that reflect who you are now — not who you’ve been.

Who Am I?

I’m Alicia.

And I didn’t get here because I had it all figured out.

I got here because something in me stopped working the way it used to.

For a long time, I moved through life doing what was expected.

Showing up. Holding it together. Being who I was supposed to be.

And quietly…

Parts of me went offline.

My body.
My desire.
My sense of aliveness.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It was gradual.

Until one day I realized:

I didn’t want to keep living like that.

For a long time, I thought something in me had disappeared.

What I realized was…

It hadn’t disappeared.

It just didn’t feel safe to exist where I was.

What followed wasn’t a reinvention.

It was a return.

And I’m still in it.

Boudoir Banter exists because I know I’m not the only one.

Where To Start

As this space grows, I’ll share the pieces that seem to land the deepest — the ones women send to each other and say:

“Read this. This is exactly what I was trying to explain.”

Here is how a bright woman slowly gave up control over her life and how to regain it.

How to overcome the negative voice in your head.

Learning to make decisions after years of being shut down.

Overcoming fear to live your best life.

If You’re Still Reading This…

Then something in you already knows.

You don’t need to have a plan.

You don’t need to know what comes next.

But you do need to stop ignoring that quiet voice that keeps saying:

There’s more here.

👉 Subscribe to Boudoir Banter and step into a space where you don’t have to pretend everything is fine.

And if there’s a woman in your life who has been holding it all together for far too long…

Send this to her.

She’ll understand.