In 2020, I experienced what Brene Brown refers to as “the midlife unraveling.” It actually started a few years earlier, but I kept pushing it down, trying to keep it at bay. I began noticing things I had previously accepted and been a part of that felt incongruent with who I was and what I wanted. The problem was that I didn’t really know who I was or what I wanted.
That fall, my therapist began our first session with the familiar, “So tell me why you’re here.” Without hesitation, I blurted out, “I’m here because I have no idea what I want or what I even like. I only know what everyone else wants.”
That moment marked the start of a profound shift in my life. My counselor warned me this journey would be unsettling and even painful. A great unraveling is exactly what it felt like. Piece by piece, little by little, my carefully constructed sense of self began to fall apart. Everything I thought I knew—about myself, my beliefs, my relationships—was no longer so certain. And that felt really scary and disconcerting.
Thankfully, I have a supportive husband who insisted I take one day a week for myself during this season of self-discovery. At first, I didn’t know what to do with that time. I was so accustomed to defining myself through my roles—wife, mom, employee—that I had no clue how to just be me.
But slowly, I started playing again. I painted with my kids’ watercolors, took long walks at the state park, wrote at a coffee shop, or had breakfast alone at a favorite local spot. Sometimes, I sat with my favorite donkey (yes, a donkey). That one day a week began to change me. For the first time, I chose to do whatever I wanted and explore what I liked.
At first, I felt guilty about taking this time for myself, but I want my children to know it’s okay for them to take time for themselves and explore new interests. I want them to know who they are apart from the world’s expectations and their various roles. As a bonus, I became a happier, more present mom because of it.
Brené Brown says, “Midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: ‘I’m not screwing around. All of this pretending and performing—these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt—has to go. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure everything you needed to feel worthy and lovable, but you’re still searching and more lost than ever. Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through your veins. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.’”
I’m still uncertain about many things I once felt sure of, but I’ve come to value curiosity over certainty. Viewing the world through a lens of curiosity has made me feel lighter, more connected, and more empathetic toward those around me.
I’m grateful to be surrounded by a husband, family, and friends who have cheered me on and given me space to grow and change, even when it’s uncomfortable. There is so much power in being able to fully show up and be seen. Some relationships have changed or fallen away, and that’s okay. My people-pleasing self would have never previously been okay with anyone not liking me or the decisions I was making, but the new me cares more about me liking myself and the decisions I’m making. I care more about living a life that is congruent with who I truly am.
I’m in my early forties now and I’m still weird and awkward and will likely always overshare. But for the first time, I can genuinely say that I really like myself and enjoy my own company. After all the unraveling, questioning, and rebuilding, I’ve come out the other side feeling more whole, more me than ever before.
These days, with a more traditional work schedule, I’ve struggled to carve out that space. I haven’t made it a priority, and I feel the difference. So, I’m recommitting to make time for myself and what I love again. I may not have a whole day, but I can set aside an evening to attend a yoga class, read at a coffee shop, or meet up with a friend.
Make Time for Yourself
If you don’t currently take time for yourself, I encourage you to find a way. I know it can be challenging, especially if you have little ones at home. Mother’s Day Out is great, but that’s not always an option. Take turns trading out kid duty with your partner or a friend. One night a week after the kids are in bed, rather than watching Netflix, take an online painting class or spend time journaling outside—do something that connects you with yourself.
In the uncertain times we’re living in, focusing on yourself may feel trivial—or even selfish. But I’ve found that’s when it’s most important. Taking time to do what you love isn’t about ignoring what’s happening around you; it’s about remembering who you are in the midst of the uncertainty. It’s about staying grounded when everything else feels unsteady. And when we care for ourselves in this way, we’re better able to fully show up, engage, and pour into our families and the world around us.
I promise you—you are worth getting to know!
