This is not written out of desperation or a cry for sympathy. What I hope you take away from my raw reflections (captured while on the treadmill – no lie) is resonance with some of the challenges women confront as they cross a certain life threshold. After they have accumulated the accolades. After the kids have gone off to college or wherever life leads them. After you reach a new phase in your relationship with your partner – whether that means rediscovering each other and rekindling the flame or acknowledging that the fire is extinguished. There is an uncomfortable, burning question many of us women stumble upon out of nowhere: who still needs me?
One of the hardest parts about how my previous career ended was letting go of the weighty responsibilities that mattered most to me. Not the 3am phone calls or extemporaneous briefings or coordinating VIP delegations, but nurturing the people that I cared about. The people who I took under my wing to mentor and develop. What would happen to them when I was no longer there physically? Had I done enough for them? With time I realized they still needed me, but the needs took on a different form.
My departure from that career that I loved coincided with full-blown menopause and my eldest going to college. That mother-daughter relationship has grown in unimaginable ways and in many respects, it has taught me how to be a better daughter. There is a confident young woman blossoming right before my eyes, trying to find her way on her own terms. Her maturation has gifted me a new appreciation for how my own mother balanced being there for me without stunting my fierce independence. I’ve realized that there’s this grey area between when your kids graduate high school and start their own chapter. The world tells them they are adults, even though as a parent you’re financing that entry into adulthood. There’s this tension between letting them make their own mistakes while knowing they still depend on you for gentle steers to prevent catastrophe. They still need you, but the needs have evolved.
And for some of us, our professional priorities also shift now that we’re middle aged. Whether you reach that magical moment of retirement or suddenly find yourself pushed out of a job, there comes a time when you question if what you’re doing aligns with your being. When you no longer crave external indicators to validate your success yet something is tugging at you. The question of who still needs me morphs into a different calling – a journey to understand what the world needs of me. Or perhaps, like me, you become more introspective and wonder what would happen if you prayed for yourself with the same fervor that you pray for others you love?
Perhaps the answer is, you’ve done all you can and you’ve reached a point where you are truly ready to just chill and be free. Maybe you do a 180 and change careers. Maybe you start a business. Maybe you dig into volunteering because you finally have the time and feel drawn to a particular cause. Maybe you relocate to get a fresh start in a different environment. Maybe it’s a combination of things. Or maybe you pause only to uncover other questions lurking beneath the surface: what do I need from me? Who do I need to be for me?
After you give and give, in all the roles you play and the invisible loads that come with them, what remains? That is what I’m on a personal quest to define for myself. I don’t want to get lost in the sauce of being everything to everyone and leave scraps to feed my soul. I have the power to blend all of my identities, the sweet treats and the sour patches, into an amazing pour of gritty wisdom for the ages. I haven’t stopped wanting those who need me to benefit from my outpouring. But I’m also leaning deeply into who I’ve been all along while embracing the iterative process of becoming an even fuller version of her, for her.