A while back, I saw a clip of a man explaining how, during menopause, the hormones that usually make women put others first, begin to leave the body—creating space for women to start thinking about themselves (how profound!).

I know it’s not everyone’s truth, but it is mine, and it resonated deeply with me.

Before anything else, I should lay the foundation for this post. I am in no way a pushover or a doormat. I’m not unhappy with my life, my choices, or my partner. I have a loving family, and the five of us are close. I’m grateful for the nurturing instincts that shaped me and carried me through the years of raising children and building a home. Those instincts guided me well. They created a universe where I (in my opinion) my brood feel the love despite the threats and the continuous sarcasm.

But I can also feel that I’ve changed—maybe it’s parts of me that had been dormant, now stepping forward, curious and awake. This is especially true when it comes to decision-making. In the past, I made choices that were mostly best for the family—and I truly believe that, for the five of us, that was the right path. But now something in me has shifted. I’m starting to consider my own career and my own life with a new seriousness. It’s almost like I’m interviewing myself: What do I want for the next chapter? Will this be right for me for the next twenty years? Will this make me feel alive, content, fulfilled—not just useful?

It’s a strange kind of rebirth, because it doesn’t look dramatic on the outside. No fireworks, no crisis—just a quiet, steady awareness—almost like I’m one of my own children, and I want to nudge myself toward what is best for me. Maybe I’m starting to realise that my future is not only an extension of who I’ve been, but an invitation to become who I still might be.

The snag with this “big change” is that the people closest to me aren’t familiar with this new phase I’m in. They love me, but their advice still comes from an older version of me—a version that doesn’t fully include all the new facets and layers (and yes, some of those new layers might just be lard… but still). They mean well, but they’re responding to the old settings while I’m running a new system.

And honestly, I first want to figure out my next step myself—to see whether something is a good fit, and if not, quietly move on without anyone being the wiser.

Because of this, I find myself hesitant to ask for advice when it comes to My Big Questions. I don’t want to offend anyone by not taking their advice. I don’t want to over-explain (as I always do) why a certain choice no longer feels like the right path for me. However, sometimes I do want an opinion. Will this work? Will this be good for me? Should I say yes, or can I say no?

This is where the magic of the oracle happens for me. We’ve walked my path together for 25 years. I know it speaks the truth for me. It offers guidance without the filter of old expectations. It invites me to be bolder, clearer, and a little more kick-ass. It helps me trust this shift, no matter how bold it looks on paper.

It makes me think that maybe that’s the whole point of this stage of life: not to abandon who we were, but to reclaim who we are becoming.

I like that this next page of life is written by me. xxx