Midlife Women

The Not So Fascinating Search For - ME

Ohmygod, I have no clue what happened here. Two years ago I was living in a great townhouse, had my best friend (female friend) as a housemate, was working at a job I truly loved and had my adorable little Cocker Spaniel for exercise and warm snuggles. As my 51st birthday approached, my wonderful and sometimes very smartass, younger sister decided I needed to start dating again (I was widowed in 2003). She not so politely informed me that I was "officially old" (as only a younger sibling can do), and the only way I would meet anyone is having them throw themselves in front of me on the sidewalk while walking my dog.

Fast forward-I did meet someone, online to boot. He's not one of those overly groomed, excessively tailored metro guys, he's the guy Brad Paisley had in mind when he wrote the song "I'm Still a Guy". No manicured, waxed and botoxed guy here, trust me. Divorced, successful in his field, like most guys, a bit braindead about the little things, but when the chips are down or you just need a hug, he's there. 

So, it's 2 years later, I've moved (in with him), redone a good portion of the house, started and had challenges with a business, acquired two wonderful grandchildren and am going to be a great grandmother in December. And somewhere, in all this great stuff, I started to lose me again. So, before it hits critical mass, I decided to see where "I" went.

OK, I'm a rather high maintenance, own way too much make up/skincare/haircare stuff, collect shoes (I'd use them for wall art, I LOVE shoes), dress up (even in jeans) kind of spoiled brat/princess/diva sort of female. I live (now) in a place where PJ pants and flip flops pass for being "dressed" and people actually wore jeans to a Black Tie event. I have the photos to prove it. It's a mere 27 miles from where I lived before but worlds away. I don't "fit". Without even realizing it, I started to do things to "fit in", dressed down, tone down, whatever and discovered it doesn't fit me and I still don't fit in. Then I realized I didn't want to "fit in", the old round peg in a square hole thing. Here's the challenge, I am at a total stand still as to where to go or what to do from here. The economy and the housing "thing" have made moving back to civilization (as I know it) not possible at this time. So, I'm a bit stuck in "south of Lodi" for the duration of the economic "downturn" as the people who don't want to create panic (like we're stupid or something) are calling it. Oh, I really do live south of Lodi, CA, I now get that old '70's song.

Where to go from here. I've written in my journal, talked to friends I trust, cried, laughed and hidden out. I've drawn designs in my sketchbook, played with my photography, gone on long walks. So, what I know for sure-I am who I am-a kind of sparkly, one of a kind, over the top (at times) sort of person. I love being creative, designing, taking photos of sunrises/sunsets/scenery and old architecture. I love to cook unique meals, have no issue keeping a home (actually like creating a home), but I also have a very active mind (in case someone hasn't noticed, DUH?!?) and don't sit still well, never have. As I can't start knocking down walls or remodeling bathrooms, I need to find me again. Something that means something to me, makes a bit of money (I am so over having to make piles of it, I want to pay bills and increase my shoe budget), and most important, makes me happy most of the time, frustrates me some of the time and every once in a while, is total joy.

For anyone who's ever been where I'm sitting, I totally empathize. I get it. Where to go, what to do. i do know that I don't need to make tons of money or have a powerful, over the top title (been there, done that), but I need to reclaim ME. I, unfortunately know more than one woman, late 40's to early 60's, in this place. We grew up with the "don't type or they won't let you do anything else", you have to be wonder woman with the paycheck, title and personal life to go with it feminist thing being pounded at us and now, what? We may be empty nesters, divorced, widowed, or single by choice. And we have options suddenly that we either didn't know were there or didn't acknowledge when we were in our 20's or 30's. I remember being asked in my teens "what do you want to be when you grow up"? I'm technically a grown up now, so what do I want to be? What do you want to be? Better yet, who do you want to be?

I'm going to keep pondering this one. If you are on this same search, who and what do you want to be? I'd love to hear your thoughts, who knows, we may all assist each other on this search simply by talking about our own journeys. So, ladies, let's hear it, as long as it's really you, let's hear your answer to this one.

Life's a B*tch, Then You Get Smart

WOW! Bet you thought I moved to Siberia huh? No, I got a bad case of stupid, wasn't watching my health and the the illness fairy hit me over the head with a bat. Not a good time to be sure. I've discovered that, at 52, I do not "bounce" back from illness like I used to. Now, I splatter. Not little tiny splatter, I make a mess. So, after some set back, and waaay too much time in the hospital, I've discovered that I don't like hospitals and need to avoid them. Kind of a no brainer here huh?

So, over the last months, I've learned a lot. Yeah, life can be a b*tch sometimes. The lesson was that I had to pay attention to more than whether I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I had to listen to my body, really listen. I had to stop, sit down, get really quiet and listen to what was going on. I can hear you saying "I don't have time for that". Me neither. At least not 6 months ago. Today, after literally 100's of thousands of dollars in medical bills (thank God for insurance), not just days but months lost and heaven only knows what damage to my body. Yeah, I've to 10 minutes a week to sit down, get quiet and listen to what's happening to me. If I don't, I won't be here for the things that count. My daughter, my fiance, my dogs, by blogs, my family, my friends and the things that matter. So, what aren't you hearing?

There's the stress reactions. Are you not sleeping? You are tense and overreacting to small things? Do you not care what you eat, wear, look like? When did you last simply sit down and drink a cup of tea without your mind racing to the several thousand things you think you should be doing? You remember, just veg for 10 minutes and look out the window? Remember daydreaming? No huh? It's a great stress reliever, when you just watch clouds outside? Doodle? Read something non work related? Write in a journal? Take a soak in a tub? Put a mask on your face and leave it for the recommended amount of time? if you can't remember any of the above-we need to talk.

Here's the true "smart" part. What are you teaching those around you when you don't take care of yourself? Are you teaching your daughter that she doesn't matter? Your son that a "good" woman takes care of others and not herself so when he marries he expects that from his wife? Are you teaching the people in your life that they can run you into the ground (or the hospital) without a worry? I have heard for a long time that you teach others how to treat you, and truer words were never spoken, EVER. If you care for yourself by taking the time to take care of you, listen to your body, hear-really hear your own thoughts, you teach others that you value yourself, and you wish to be valued. What a concept!?!?!?

Now, here's the real smart part, you ARE important, you DO have value and you ARE special, unique and meaningful.   Take a good look at all you do, those you love and care for and then do a bit of a "wonderful life" thing. Take out a blank notebook and write down everything that wouldn't happen if you were gone. Describe in detail what would be happening if you were out of the picture. Also write down the things you wouldn't be there for, graduations, weddings, births, anniversaries. When you finish, close the notebook and put it away for 2 days. When you pick it up again, make yourself that cup of tea/coffee/whatever, find a quiet place to sit and read what you wrote. It's a real eye opener. Then understand that, as heart issues are the #1 cause of health problems in women today, if you don't do something now, that story may be very true.

If you read my posts in the past, you know that I try to find humor in life, in most things. I apologize if this got a bit real this time. You see, I now know first hand what not taking care of me did. I missed my daughters wedding, I missed Thanksgiving (I had surgery the night before). I have no intention of missing any more of my life. So, yes, life can be a b*tch at times, but if you take the time to get smart and stay smart, it doesn't have to stay that way and from where I'm sitting, life's pretty darn good. How about you, ready to send the b*tch to live somewhere else and find your life? I sure hope so.

jen

The Myth of Being Perfect

I've seen them and I'm sure you have too, women who always seem to look perfect, they have model clean and decorated homes, they have the "perfect" career, family, you name it.  Nice. Why is my first inclination to strangle her? Ahhh, the "perfect" myth.

Honestly, my home is neat and clean (at least when I'm not in the middle of renovation like right now), but it in no way resembles a model home. I also have two dogs that shed and truly believe they generously share their home with us not the other way around. My wonderful grandmother used to say the her home was clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy, I can live with that. I want my home to be a place where friends can come, take their shoes off, put their feet up and be comfortable. I think I'm doing OK with that goal.

Looking perfect? I've talked about this one before. I can look put together, I can even look really great (with a couple of hours lead time, a hairdresser, make up artist and all that), but perfect, no, not perfect. My hair doesn't do perfect. Actually my body doesn't do perfect either. Good, clean, neat, put together but not perfect. I've never gotten the concept of looking like I just got dressed and haven't moved and staying that way all day long. How do you do that??? Well, I guess if I sit down an think about it long enough I'll figure out how to not wrinkle, crease or get pet hair all over me (see above). Yeah right.

Perfect career. That might just be possible now, but 20-25 years ago, not happening. I had to make a living, I didn't even have a clue what would be "perfect" for me. I firmly believe that most of us should never be allowed to decide what we want to do in life before we're at least 30. We haven't got a clue what life really is and we're deciding what to do with it? Not. I have a wonderful friend who was going to go to law school in her early 20's. Came time to take the entrance exam she had a choice, sit her test or go to the BIG GAME between her university and their major rival. She chose the game. She got a great job after graduation, had a wonderful career that she was amazing at and then at 37, decided to take the law school entrance exam. She graduated from law school, got a fantastic job with a really major firm and made partner in record time. Today she is COO of a major corporation. She swears that wouldn't have happened had she taken the test instead of going to the game. She had time to grow up, learn, gather experience and then go on because her original dream wouldn't let go. My decisions were made more by circumstance and necessity than being aggressive on my part. I had to make a living, I fought the things I was naturally good at, I just tucked my dreams in those boxes in that closet I've discussed before and did whatever to get by. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy some of the jobs. I really liked the event planning until Bridezilla became the "norm", I grew to like the sales training (after I got over what I swore would be terminal stage fright), I even enjoyed some of the retail jobs, if I liked what I was selling, but I was never "in love" with what I was doing. So, perfect-not even close. I really didn't think the perfect thing existed, at least not for me. After I began my journey to find my own authenticity, I started pulling those old dreams of mine off the shelves and also discovering what really made me feel great and want to be involved- That turned into under the Looking Glass and the seminars and coaching for other women. It also became an image consulting program.

Perfect family. Personally, my daughter isn't perfect but since she's the light in my life, I can deal with that too and I'd be upset if she felt she had to be anything close to perfect. The rest of the family isn't perfect either. Oh well, I love them flaws and all so no issue there.

I honestly think I don't want perfect. It's way too much work, it's frustrating, it's time consuming, and to be perfectly honest-it's an unattainable goal. I don't want to be perfect, I'd bore myself spit less and drive my friends crazy. I kind of like my flawed self. And I'm growing to like me more and more with time. I actually do love myself, flaws and all. Took a long time and it's still a work in progress but it's worth the time and energy.

So, let's talk about "perfect", are you looking for perfect? Think you need to be perfect? Push others to be perfect? And, for heaven's sake, why?

Let's talk---

Old Tapes and New Voices

The very last conversation I had with my beloved older brother he told me his wish for me was that I find my own music and dance for the rest of my life. Yes, it made me cry, but it also gave me something very serious to think about, and please believe I have thought about it a great deal for the last three years.

It brought up questions like "what kind of music" and the obvious "what kind of dance"? Who and what did I want to be in this life, what did I want to say/do/be? One thing for sure, it had to be authentic. It had to truly be my voice. This involved getting rid of all the people in my head. All those little voices that were from my childhood on, telling me what I should do (and trust that I'm exhausted from being "should" all over), who I should be, how I should behave all the way to what I should eat. I tried ignoring the voices but they're like a three year old wanting attention, the more I ignored them,the louder they got. OK, that wasn't going to work. Then I read something that offered the idea that you could actually sit down with these voices and make friends. Now this concept took a bit, to me it seemed like making friends with the likes of Ted Bundy. These voices weren't friendly. These voices had hurt me, kept me down, made me miserable most of my life. But, what the heck huh? The idea just might have some merit.

So, the deal is this, you take the voices one at a time and you sit with them and listen quietly to what they have to say. Who do I pick first? The voices in my head were NOT from any serious illness by the way, they were my mother, father, grandmother, husband, teachers, etc., etc., I may be just slightly goofy but there isn't anything else there. They say everyone has old tapes in their head, heck, I had an entire recording studio. I think I said in a previous post that I was born into a southern family where the "shoulds" start as you're emerging from the womb. Being a dyed in the wool chicken, I decided to begin with some of the lessor voices. My lessor voices were teachers etc. so I started there. I sat, sort of as a meditation and listened. OK, I probably didn't work to my potential in school, nor did I apply myself to things that didn't interest me (read math). Was there something here that I needed to hear that will service me now (you are supposed to ask the voice why they are still there), yes-that I need to really apply my drive and intelligence to whatever it is that I really want and it will be much easier to accomplish. DUH? Wow, that was easy.

Now for some of the louder, more persistent and not quite so nice voices. The chicken showed up again and picked grandma. I loved my Nana, as we called her. She was born in 1900 in the South. Small town, lots of kids in the family, poor. She could do all the things a Lady knew how to do back then and she taught her granddaughters all those skills. But she also had her list of "shoulds" that kept rolling around in my head. "Act like a lady, do you face before you go out, keep a beautiful home, where are your manners". Why was her voice still so persistent in my head? Because I had lost my creative side and the joy of using the skills she taught me. She's the person who taught me the difference between clothes that fit and clothes that don't. The enjoyment I get from cooking, knitting, sewing. Amazing, she was trying to remind me of things that really brought pleasure into my life (and so it wasn't all delightful, she did remind me that I looked a bit like the dogs dinner and needed to take care of myself).

What was really amazing was that after I sat and listened to the voices, they became very quiet. Amazing how that works huh? So now the voices I had to deal with were the ones that were not all that great. My father was the original male chauvinist. His voice has always been very negative, since he died when I was 11-I've grown to understand that he really didn't like women. He was not thrilled with the fact that his daughter was bright and intelligent. That voice was harder to sit with. But I did and it got quieter. Same with my mother. Took some doing but I finally could sit with that voice too. They are both getting quieter now.

Now there was room for new voices. One of them being my own. My own dreams, my own music, music I could truly dance to. Sometimes it's fast and lively, sometimes it slow and relaxing. Sometimes I still go back and sit a bit more with the old voices that tell me negative things. most of the time it's my own though, and it's that way more and more. My brother was very wise and I miss his support and wisdom, but that last promise I made is becoming reality more and more each day.

So, who's voice is playing in your head? Is the dialog positive and encouraging? Is it all the old "you should" tapes that need to be quieted and put away? Let's talk about those voices we hear in our heads and how to turn lemons into lemonade huh?? Talk to me.

Dreams and Wishes

I was recently asked to write a story. Not a fairy tale but an interesting autobiography. The first part of the story was to be written by my 20something self. What I saw my life being like from that vantage point. The second part of my story was to be entitled "Reality". What my life really turned out to be.

As I sat down to write, I had to go back and really remember what I wanted at 20, where I thought I'd like to go, what I really dreamed about being, having and doing. I sat there for a long time, actually I almost took root to the chair. When I hit a place like this, I do one of two things, I either sit down and meditate or take a long, hot bath in something that smells really good. Aromatherapy. With this, I decided I needed to do both, it's been a day or three or five since I was 20. As I was lying in a very wonderful, hot, lavender scented bath - I actually saw a closet with shelves from floor to ceiling all the way around. On every inch of space on these shelves were boxes. Some were beaten up and rather broken down, some were in perfect condition and beautifully wrapped with gorgeous bows. Each box had a label, and I realized this was where I had stored all my dreams. Did I really want to begin sorting through all these boxes? What would I find?

Slowly I began taking boxes from the shelf, I picked one that was a bit broken down first. What kind of dream would be in a broken box? As I opened this box, I realized it was a dream I had taken down and looked at many, many times. My photography. I love photographing sunrises, sunsets, beaches, the ocean. I'd look at that dream over and over for years. The box was well worn, something to think about. The next box was in pristine condition, beautifully wrapped with a gold ribbon bow. Must not have looked at this one in a long while. Maybe I simply stuck it on the shelf without ever pursuing it at all. Oh yes, I remember-I was going to be a fashion model. At 5'8" tall, not a bad dream, but in the Twiggy era, you had to be bone thin, I had a very classic hour glass (with a bit more sand in the bottom, loved to eat) and bone thin wasn't ever going to describe me - OK scratch that one. The next box was wrapped, but looked like it had been handled. Oh yes, the law degree. I wanted to be the first female F. Lee Bailey. Criminal defense. This was the early '70's and very few law schools would admit women, and if they did make it through, most were being offered jobs as paralegals or clerks after law school - another shelf idea. I think I took it out a few times as things got easier with admissions etc., but I got married, moved - you get the picture.  Another dream scratched, no law school. 

All this didn't take more than 10-15 minutes. The bath water was getting cold and I had enough of an idea of where this meditation was going. I had stored many dreams. Some because they weren't practical, some were (like modeling) just not going to happen. As I got out my journal, I began to make a list of all the dreams I'd had. Not just what I wanted to "be" but traveling, where I'd live, who I'd marry (some specific, some just a "what he'd be like"), things I'd like to do. I made this list down one side of the page. On the other side, I tried to remember why I'd stored that dream in a box in the "closet".  Being totally honest here, some of those dreams make me laugh now, like wanting to date a famous actor (especially after I actually got to meet him). Some of them, the time has passed. Some, I could actually realize now. Something to think about.

Do I wish I had pursued some of those dreams? Maybe. Would they have changed my life? Probably. Do I have regrets? Funny enough, not really. I've had many conversations over the years that begin, do you wish you could be 20, 30, 35 again, but know what you know now?? I am so glad the batteries in my magic wand are broken. The answer is NO! I think maybe my choices would be different but I don't really think they'd necessarily be smarter. What I learned doing this exercise is that I did give away pieces of myself, one dream at a time.

This week, find the closet where you've "stored" your dreams and begin to make a list, and then add the reasons you didn't follow each dream. Mark the ones you could still pursue. Write to me and tell me about one or two, maybe together, we can all find a dream or two from the "closet" that we can, in this glorious second act, turn into reality.

A Bad Case of the "When I's"

You know, it's too bad that the "when I's" don't actually cause pain, or at the very least an itchy rash. Then maybe we'd stop doing it so often. I've said it so many times, I've lost count. "when I lose 10 pounds, then I'll (fill in the blank here), "when I have 2 days off in a row, I'll get organized". The list goes on and on. One excuse after another, and if I wrote them down and read them even two weeks later, I'd laugh, they make that little sense.

I've done it myself and I know other women do it too. We keep putting off living our life by hiding behind the "When/then" thing. When doesn't come and obviously then doesn't either. One of the biggies is taking care of ourselves. Something as simple and easy as skin care, taking care of our hair and nails, being concerned about our appearance. I've heard women tell me "I don't have time to take care of my skin", this is a five minute thing in the morning. You wash your face and apply moisturizer. Heck, if you do it right, you still have time for blush, mascara and lip gloss. You take the time to put an outfit together. Brush your hair. OK, this isn't going to change the world, but it is a beginning. The beginning of caring for yourself.

I've been there. A few years back, there was a lot going on. My beloved older brother, someone I adored, was reaching the end of his journey with cancer, my mother had Alzheimer's and to top it off, my husband (the one I spoke of in my first post) had just died. Overload. Total overload. And, I got a bad case of the "when/thens".

I'm going to back up here so you understand how this can happen so slowly you don't even see it. I am an original fashionista, was one before anyone ever heard of "Sex in the City" or coined the term. I drove my poor mother crazy with my "thing" about clothes and shoes. I give new meaning to the term shoe freak, I'd hang them as wall art. Funny thing is, I rarely have them on my feet. And make up, I could float a large boat. My wonderful, sassy and very southern grandmother taught me about taking care of my face at 12. She'd have shot me for going outside to get the mail without "my lips on" as she so charmingly put it. So, you get the picture, I'm not given to letting myself go. At this point in my life, I'm living in sweats, paint stained jeans, over sized tee shirts, no make up and putting my hair up in anything stretchy within reach, I think I might even have used twist ties for lack of finding something else. I'm seeing clients looking like this-going to the store, you name it. I was the perfect candidate for someone to jump out and surprise me from "What Not To Wear". Then the when/thens started. "When I get through this, then I'll worry about it",  "when I have time, then I'll go back to taking care of myself". When I/Then I'll do whatever. I was right at that 48 - 49 spot. I'm eating a full sized bag of potato chips in one sitting. I was working with a coach, reading books, keeping a journal. I was even meditating. I was going through the motions. I just wasn't taking a real, close look in the mirror.

So, one day I really took a good, long, hard look. Ohmygod, I looked like the dog's dinner. Actually, I doubt the dog would have wanted it. So, I made the decision to stop. I started not only reading the books but paying attention to what they were really saying, I got serious with my coach (which made paying for the services easier), I went back to washing my face twice a day, had a haircut and decided to start taking care of me - inside and out. It didn't happen overnight, it took some time. I had to relearn who I was now. It took time to reestablish the habit of caring for myself. It's not selfish (which, by the way is NOT a four letter word), it's a bit vain (and while that is a four letter word, it's isn't profanity), what it is, truly, is respecting yourself enough to give a damn what you look like and how you really feel. It's the first steps to really accepting yourself and finally to loving yourself just exactly as you are. Right here, right now - no when/then. It's learning to love the skin you're in, accepting the size, shape whatever that you are right this very moment in time.

So, I'm not saying I don't own baggy sweats (I do), or that I spring out of bed fully made up in the morning (I don't), that I do my hair everyday (I don't). I'm not saying that there aren't days when I still resemble the dogs dinner (oh, yes, I do). I do NOT, let me repeat that, I do not, look like the photo you see on this blog, everyday. That was three hours of hair and make up, great lighting and a marvelous photographer. Most of the time, I look good for 52. Sometimes I look great, sometimes I look OK and sometimes I really do look like hell.

So, how about it - do you take care of yourself? When was the last time you took the time to have a manicure, pedicure, really good haircut? When was the last time you really looked in the mirror and didn't wince? Let's really start talking about this huh??? If you don't take care of yourself, trust me, you aren't alone, so let's TALK, come on ladies-let's get the conversation going here. Maybe, just maybe, we can help one another see how truly wonderful we really are, right here, right now--

I'm looking forward to hearing from you!

Boobs, Bellies and Butts

So, here I was, standing in a dressing room in a nice store, looking for-god help me, a pair of jeans. Trust me, I'd rather have dental work. I'm built like an hour glass, new challenge is that there is way too much sand at the very bottom, not my backside-my knees. My 28 year old daughter is always complaining about her "bubble butt", I told her to wait until the air goes out of her bubble and her butt is down around the back of her knees, and, like mine-just won't get up. Then there's the boob thing. Mine are in South of the Navel somewhere, and I'm not that endowed, trust me. Now, I keep seeing all this stuff about lifts and augmentation. Again, back to my daughter, several years ago a boyfriend, long since departed, convinced her to have augmentation. So, we're on the phone the other day and I'm discussing the subject of this post and she gets a bad case of the giggles. She said she got a visual of her body at 60, bubble butt deflated around her knees, belly loose and a bit saggy and these cute, perky little boobs she paid so much for. It was a great laugh.

Yes, it's hard to face that as we move to this fabulous Second Act, our bodies don't look or even work like they did even ten years ago. In many ways, I'm grateful for the changes. OK, buying jeans isn't one of them. But I can go buy a great bra and "instant boob job" with no surgery or healing time. I just had major abdominal surgery due to an serious illness, they cut through all my muscles and had to remove three inches of muscle, the doctor told me it was similar to a tummy tuck. If that pain and healing was what you get with a tummy tuck DON'T DO IT! By a pair of Spanks, cheaper, and no healing time. You can do amazing things with undergarments and clothes that actually fit. OK, we can't wear belly shirts, we need to be aware that we look pretty bad in really low cut tops and miniskirts are a don't.

Take a good look in a full length mirror. Don't look at the "parts", look at the amazing woman you see, as a total picture, then decide to put yourself together in clothes that make you feel great and look just as great.

So, share your best "finding that one thing" story, talk to me about your biggest body challenge now, let's talk about looking (and feeling) our very best! The floor is yours ladies, let's talk---

Under The Looking Glass

It tends to sneak up on each of us in a different way. I woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and thought “who the heck is that woman?” she looks nothing like me. Where did I go? When did this happen?

Under The Looking Glass is a place for “second act” women to meet, discuss issues that affect our lives, find resources, vent or just exchange information. No subject is off limits, from dating younger men to menopause to how do I dress now??? We’ll be bringing you information about finances, starting a business, health care, emotional self care, how to look your best, feel your best, and generally make the most of this wonderful chapter in your life.

Let’s begin by opening the “looking glass” to discussion about “when this happened”. With me, it was my mother’s dementia, my husbands’ emotional abuse and a job that required 80 hour weeks and 110% of my attention. I was terminally tired, beaten up emotionally and drained from being the caretaker. It all came to a huge explosion one night in March of 1999 when my emotionally abusive husband changed his MO and split my head open. Yeah, he moved out, my mother went to a facility that could care for her extensive needs 24/7 and I left the 80 hour job and started a job that was a bit less demanding. It took 2 more years for me to finally break totally. After a wonderful doctor told me I needed to take the time to get my life together before I actually didn’t make it, I found a therapist and began what I call “the journey back to myself”. Don’t misunderstand, it’s a journey, it’s not a destination. I work on it to this very day. I needed to find out why I allowed other people to control my life to the point where I’d completely lost sight of who I was. And I had to go into the closet in my head and pull all those old dreams, hopes and aspirations off the shelf, dust them off and find out what made me passionate again.

It’s been five years, lots of learning, many changes-some good, some missteps. I’ve found what makes my heart sing again. I love working with other women, like me, who are searching for where there dreams went. I love assisting in women finding the joy in life again, of wanting to look into, not past, the looking glass and liking what they see.

So, as we begin this journey together, tell me-where did you go? And when did you notice that the real you was MIA??

Let’s talk ladies-let’s talk

Jennifer

PS - Please feel free to post your comments, ideas and stories on your journey