One minute, you’re learning how to be a parent, how to keep this tiny, delicate human being thrust into your care alive. You help them learn to walk, talk, function. Navigate milestones like first teeth, potty training, first day at school.

Before you know it, you’re helping with homework, freezing your bits off at the edge of a [insert appropriate ball-game here] pitch, washing dirty kit, learning the offside rule.

Then there are hormones to contend with, slammed doors, broken hearts, exams…

Until, finally, the day comes when they fly the nest.

It’s a happy day, right? After all, isn’t this what we wanted? Happy, confident, independent children? We’re pleased for them, proud.

1. Recognise your Feelings

So what is this hollow feeling in the pit of the stomach? Why do our eyes smart with tears on the drive home? Why does walking into that quiet, empty house for the first time without them make your heart ache?

Of course, these feelings are natural. We’re bound to miss someone we have probably seen every day for the past 18 plus years, aren’t we? Only this feels a little bit like grief. Like a solid stone in the pit of the belly that doesn’t seem to want to go away.

I remember when my last child left home I was hit by the thought “what am I for now?” From a distance, that seems crazy, but at the time it was very real. Being a Mum was a huge component of my life’s purpose. I had been so busy helping my son get ready to set off on his big adventure, and his brother and sisters before him, I forgot all about me. No wonder I felt lost.

2. Don’t Cling

The truth is, there’s a huge period of adjustment ahead, not just for your child, but for you. It’s crucial that you don’t cling, that you work on truly letting go.

That doesn’t mean that you won’t be there for them when they need you. You will still be a big part of their lives, just not as big as before. Not as much as you will still feel they are part of yours.

I knew a woman who travelled 200 miles round trip a week to clean her son’s student room, the communal rooms (including the bathroom) and do his washing. He tolerated this intrusion into his life presumably because a) he was 18 years old and lazy and b) because he was sensitive enough to know that his mum needed to feel needed still and this was her way of showing love.

How much better would it have been all round if she had taught him the basics of looking after himself? How to operate the washing machine, cook himself a decent meal and clean a toilet?

Of course, his patience ran out in the end. The more you cling, the more likely they will push back.

3. Do the Work You Need to Do on Yourself

This is an opportunity for you to do some self development work. Time for you to take a step back and assess where you are and where you would like to be.

If this is your last — or only child — leaving home, you no longer have the same constraints on your time or attention. Not to put too fine a point on it, you now have more freedom. What are you going to do with it?

This question might well seem daunting at first. Take your time. Reach out to your friends, or make more friends. If you’re single, you are far more free to socialise, if that’s what you want. If you are partnered, a whole new world is opening up for you.

I know it hurts. Missing them can be a physical, visceral feeling. You miss the chatter, the smell of their skin when you hug them, the very presence of them next to you on the sofa. Don’t underestimate the strength of your feelings.

But you will get used to this new normal. And just as you do, the holidays will come around and they’ll barrel their way into your life again like a bull in a china shop, upsetting your new, fragile calm.

It will take a few hours, if not days, to readjust. And then they’ll be off again, leaving the quiet, the absence of them behind. It’ll take a few days to get used to it again.

It will take a while to adjust to this rollercoaster of coming and going, but you will. You must. Because they need to know that YOU are ok, that they are not responsible for your feelings.

It’s time for YOU to become independent as well as them. Not just for your own sanity, but for their sake too. Everything we do for our children is an act of love. Including letting them go.

First published on the Wise Women Blog

…that is the question!

How do you feel about your hair right now? As we age, our hair gradually shows changes in colour and texture and is one of the most visible signs of ageing.

Hair changes texture with age, just as our skin does. The received convention amongst trichologists says that by age 50, 50% of the population will have 50% grey hair.

Some of us also experience hair loss, which can be distressing.

“The sudden, diffuse loss of hair from all over the scalp is called ‘telogen effluvium’ and can be the result of improper nutrition, stress, hormonal upsets and pregnancy. A reduction in your hair’s diameter can also be influenced by these things, but is most often due to genetics, follicle sensitivity to hormones, and to age.” Philip Kingsley

If you have noticed your hair thinning significantly, it’s worth seeing a doctor to rule out other underlying problems such as a dysfunctional thyroid.

If you are just starting to notice a few silver threads coming through, hands up if you pull them out!

The best advice on that is — don’t! See below…

Here are a few grey hair facts:

• The life span of one hair is 1–3 years before it sheds, making way for a new one
• Stress doesn’t make hair go grey, but it can make you shed hair
• As we age, we generate fewer of the cells that create pigment
• Hydrogen peroxide naturally occurs in our hair follicles, and as we get older, it builds up. This build-up blocks the production of hair pigment: melanin.
• Pulling our grey hairs can damage the follicle, making them grow back crinkly

There can be many reasons for feeling that we actually need to disguise the grey in our hair. There is no doubt that, for some women, leaving their greys makes them feel older. If we are newly single and dating, we want to look and feel our best and, let’s be honest, for many of us, that involves feeling and looking youthful and vibrant.

My dad used to say, never trust a woman who dyes her hair because if she’s going to lie about that, what else is she living about! Sorry, Dad, I think you went a bit too far there! For me, I dye because my hair is neither grey nor the colour it used to be — it is at the stage where I am losing pigment but, to my eyes, it looks flat and dull. Boosting my hair colour makes me feel brighter.

If you are holding down a demanding and competitive career, visible signs of ageing might not help in a society where age is arguably no longer seen as a mark of wisdom and older workers are far from revered.

I once met a man who had spent most of his working life in South Korea. He kept his hair dyed an unlikely blue-black for just that reason.

What about the health risks of dying your hair? Some of the ingredients in common hair dyes, such as peroxide, ammonia and Para-phenylenediamine (PPDs) are believed to be toxic, and formaldehyde is a known carcinogen.

The jury seems to be out on whether there is a definitive link between hair dye use and cancer, with some studies showing a small risk. However, as hair is made of keratin — essentially dead matter — it would be difficult for these chemicals to enter the blood stream. The danger comes through the skin, which is why you are required to take a regular patch test to test for reactions by your salon as many of us are allergic to the ingredients.

In conclusion, dying your hair will inevitably add to your “toxic load”, but current research appears to have concluded that the risks are small.

Of course, many women now embrace the grey and it can look stunning. As one of my clients and collaborators said to me recently:

“This is me — grey hair, no make-up: what you see is what you get.”

In my opinion, we need to ditch judgement about grey hair (we need to ditch judgement about everything to do with other people’s choices over their appearance!) This time in our lives is a time to say to hell with what everyone else thinks and go with what you want to do with your hair, make- up and fashion choices. Do what makes you feel good. And celebrate and support each other in our choices!

Sources:

Good Housekeeping Magazine, Gray hair facts https://bit.ly/2Gtisi7

Philip Kingsley https://bit.ly/2C2H7Gq

The American Cancer Society https://www.cancer.org/cancer/cancer-causes/hair-dyes.html

https://stylecaster.com/beauty/hair-dye-chemicals/

Photo by Alexander Possingham on Unsplash

Originally published on The Midlife Movement

Turning 50 made me realise with a jolt that I probably have more years behind me than in front of me. It threw me for a little while, but then I realised my “midlife crisis” could be turned into a “midlife opportunity” if I could change my attitude. Here are just 7 things I learned at 50:

Knees don’t necessarily bend easily forever!You don’t realise how much you take your body for granted until a part of it starts to hurt! At 50 I learned that regular exercise is no longer an option — I have to walk regularly, drag out my yoga mat and lift weights to keep me strong and stop me from feeling stiff all the time. It doesn’t stop me from feeling 101 when I wake up in the morning, mind, but at least I can do something about how strong and flexible I will be at 60, 70, 80 and beyond!

Failing eyesight isn’t always a bad thing. Without my glasses I can’t see my wrinkles, grey hair or whether my legs need waxing! (Maybe the last isn’t quite such a good thing!)

Girlfriends make the world a much better place. When I hit 50 I started to really appreciate my female friends. Having a supportive network of women around me, lifting each other up when we feel low and cheering each other on when we are doing well, has been a lifeline.

Elasticated waistlines are my friend. I always used to think that buying trousers with an elasticated waist would mean I had “given up” or “let myself go”. But they are so bloomin’ comfortable — who cares how I keep my trousers up? Once I hit 50 “comfort” was no longer a dirty word.

Bridget Jones was onto something with those pants! Talking about comfort, wearing big pants is a midlife woman’s compensation for a thickening waistline. Who knew they were so comfortable?No scratchy thongs in places that don’t see sunlight, no post birthday cake bulge spilling over your knicker elastic, just a nice smooth line under your clothes and a way to “keep your kidneys warm”, as my grandma liked to say!

I am 100% responsible for my own happiness. At 50 I finally “got it”. Other people and outside factors might cause difficulties in my life, but blaming my husband, the government, or the weather for whatever is making me unhappy isn’t the answer!It might be a cliche, but it’s true that we can’t always change what happens to us, we can only change our reaction to it.

Life is good. So many people don’t make it, you have to make the most of every single day. At 50 I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. For the people I love, the work I do, the fact that my body still works… it doesn’t matter that my skin isn’t as firm and my waistline is thicker. It matters that I am here — loving, laughing, living every minute to the full!

First published in Female First on 2nd July

Originally published at https://www.themidlifemovement.com.

To the woman who woke up this morning and had to fight the urge to put her head back under the duvet. Who maybe groans a little when she rolls out of bed because everything aches.

To the woman who doesn’t recognise the face in the mirror, who feels a little sad as she watches as the water runs down her body in the shower, whose hair is losing its colour and whose clothes suddenly feel a little tight around the middle.

I KNOW YOU!

To the woman who dashes about to get her family off to school/college/work, who puts on the radio while she works around the house so that she doesn’t feel lonely. The woman who feels strangely invisible as she walks along the street.

To the woman whose career has lost its shine, who feels overlooked as younger colleagues are promoted above her. The woman who has a hot flush as she’s giving a presentation and wonders if anyone has noticed, who struggles to concentrate at the end of the day:

I SEE YOU!

To the woman caring for elderly parents, constantly having to battle to get them the medical and social care they need. The woman who feels she is dividing herself up into ever decreasing little pieces, looking after everyone else with no time to care for herself.

To the woman who sits across the table from her partner in silence and wonders if they know each other at all any more.

I HEAR YOU!

To the woman who has started to ask herself: is this it? Who has started to wonder who she is, who has no idea what she wants anymore, or what the rest of her life will be like.

To the woman who wants things to change, to feel in control again, to be happy but feels she has no idea what to do about it.

I WAS YOU!

If you are 45 now, the chances are that, health willing, you are only halfway through this wonderful rollercoaster we call life. You’ve spent the first half of it growing up, working, maybe having children.

If you identify with any of the women described above, in any way, it might feel like you’re having a midlife crisis. I know it did when I was going through some of those things!

You know the saying: you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs? Well, this is the sound of those eggs plopping into the bowl, and it’s messy! But you can make the fluffiest, tastiest, most desirable omelette to sustain you for the rest of your life!

Ok, enough with the egg analogy! You don’t have to travel this path alone. There’s a whole world of opportunity out there just waiting for you.

Join us in the Midlife and Beyond Facebook Group for free community.

Book a free “Rediscovery” Call. Further details are on the “Work with me” page, or book directly into the calendar.

Love Jo x

Originally published on The Midlife Movement

In The Midlife Movement Facebook Group we’ve been talking about self care this week. What it is and whether we do it and why we should if we don’t.

I’ve been watching a BBC comedy on iplayer called Mum. The first episode of series one takes place on the day of the funeral of the lead character, Cathy’s, husband. The three series then meander through the next two years of Cathy’s life as she comes to terms with widowhood and deals with her daft yet demanding family.

Sounds like a barrel of laughs, doesn’t it? :-) It is one of those quiet, very British shows, (think The Detectorists) that observe life and point out its absurdities using exaggeration and characters that verge on the grotesque — and some who tip over.

Through it all runs the thread of Cathy’s emerging romantic feelings for her lifelong friend, Michael. Michael has been in love with her since they were 17 but never burdens her with his feelings, simply watching out for her and showering her with kindness. He’s always there, putting up shelves, taxiing her son and his girlfriend to the airport on the day his mum dies, always putting her first.

Lesley Mandeville plays the role of the endlessly patient, undemanding Cathy with an understated, masterly touch, putting up with the unintentional put downs from her son’s dippy girlfriend ( That’s a nice top, Cathy, who went shopping with you?) and the deliberate nastiness of her brother’s partner, Pauline.

As the series goes on, we begin to get impatient with Michael’s inability to declare himself and Cathy’s willingness to be treated like a doormat. And yet we relate to her desire to take the path of least resistance as she mourns the loss of her husband and starts to work out how she wants to live now.

Just as we start to despair, she shows flashes of fire. I find that some people who treat others badly are trying to cover up how sad they are, she tells Pauline. Women don’t need looking after — I don’t need looking after, she says to Jason, her overprotective, grieving son.

It isn’t until the last series that we see Cathy start to take control. When Jason’s distaste at the idea of her having a relationship after his father gets out of control she doesn’t lose her temper, treating him with compassion even as his words finally light the touch paper to her sense of self determination. Life is confusing for women your age, Mum. But I’m here to look out for you. Just take things steady and eventually you’ll realise how you’re behaving.

Why am I talking about a sitcom when I’m supposed to to be talking about self care? I think that Mum beautifully illustrates the gradual awakening that so many of us experience in midlife. Cathy is 60. The willingness of everyone around her to write her off holds up a mirror to her and makes her realise she has a lot of life to live.

Whether that’s with Michael or not doesn’t really matter. Finding the courage to hang up her pinny — whether literally or metaphorically — is a gradual process. It illustrates perfectly that change doesn’t have to be sudden, or drastic or dramatic. But it is necessary if we are to be happy.

Nothing stays the same. Our children grow, our faces wrinkle, our tummies sag. We can’t let that define us. Other people’s expectations can’t define us. Our own expectations, if they are limited, or formed in a past where life was more limiting than it is now, need to change and lift us up.

Just this morning a younger friend of mine said she was enjoying some time alone. but felt guilty about it. I think that many of us can relate to that! Let’s put aside this notion that our needs are lower in the hierarchy than anyone else around us — families, partners, colleagues, community.

It’s fine to want to serve, to be useful. But we don’t need to sacrifice ourselves to do so.

Image: Lesley Manderville and Jimmy Mullen in Mum ©BBC

Originally published on The Midlife Movement

Yesterday, I wrote about my own experience of depression. If someone you care about is in the throes of a bout of depression it can be really difficult to know how to support them. I’ve been clinically depressed and I’ve supported people who are depressed, so I have experience of this horrible condition from both sides as both carer and cared for.

I’ve been talking to fellow sufferers and, drawing on their experience and my own, here are my tips on how to support someone who is depressed:

1. LISTEN Don’t try to “fix” them. It’s tempting to try to come up with solutions — “why don’t you…” “Look at it like this…” but actually, it can be really unhelpful. The best thing is to listen — really, really listen. You can reflect back what they have said to you so that they know you have heard them, but don’t go overboard! The very act of being willing to listen can be a huge help.
2. ASK THEM WHAT THEY NEED They might not know, but the fact that you are willing to ask can be comforting. If they do know, then act on it. They know what they need more than you do.
3. FEED THEM Put good food in front of them — but don’t get upset if they are unable to eat it. Look after them while they are incapable of looking after themselves, but be careful to let go when they are ready to take up the reins again.
4. WALK WITH THEM Literally, walk with them. Gentle physical exercise, fresh air and sunshine, not to mention a change of scene can do wonders. A depressed person knows this, but might not be able to muster up the motivation to get outside. But, again, they might not feel able — don’t be offended if your offer is turned down.
5. DON’T JUDGE Someone who is depressed is likely to already be consumed by guilt and shame. Listen — but don’t be quick to jump in with comparing experiences of your own. It might seem to you as if you’re empathising, but the truth is no one has exactly the same experience, and it can seem as though you are negating their experience.
6. OFFER TO MAKE APPOINTMENTS such as for a GP visit if one is needed. When a person is depressed it can feel overwhelmingly difficult to make that move. Go with them if they want you to, but make sure you know what they want from the visit so that you can help them communicate with the doctor. Don’t simply take over. Ask them if they would like you to remind them to order repeat prescriptions — pharmacies can be really difficult to deal with!
7. KEEP SHOWING UP It can seem like a long haul, but consistently showing up and showing you are willing to gently walk beside them through their darkest times can be the most supportive and helpful thing you can do.

There should be an eighth tip here, and that is, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

Caring for someone with depression can be mentally and emotionally exhausting and it’s important to make time to replenish yourself.

Much as we want to help, to solve things for them, it is a mistake to try. Outside solutions rarely work — all you can do is support your loved one as they find their own way through this painful and debilitating period and have faith that it will pass.

It sounds like a cliché, but, like most clichés it is based in truth: just be there for them, in whatever way they need you to be. Though it might be difficult, you also need to be able to put your own feelings and concern for them aside and step back when they want you to.

Above all, know this — though the person you are caring for might not express it, your support is undoubtedly appreciated and it does make a difference.

Photo by Marco Bianchetti on Unsplash

Originally published on The Wise Women Blog on The Midlife Movement

So many women tell me they lost their confidence as they approached menopause. For some it’s a sudden omg, stop in their tracks moment, often accompanied by a panic attack. For others it’s a gradual wearing down, a slowly dawning realisation that everything they had been certain of before suddenly isn’t so certain any more.

Sometimes, there seems to be no apparent reason for this loss of confidence. Anxiety, depression, a feeling of being lost can come out of nowhere. So what can cause this loss of confidence and what can we do we do to arrest it? How do we get our mojo back?

6 Ways we can Lose our Confidence in Midlife — and How to Rediscover it.

1. Physical appearance. Slowing metabolism often results in weight gain, especially around the middle. Facially, we lose collagen and start to notice a softening in the jawline, wrinkles, eye bags — if we feel we don’t recognise ourselves in the mirror any more it can knock confidence.

2. Psychological changes. It is not uncommon for a woman who has never had a day’s depression to suddenly feel suicidal. Anxiety is common, as is loss of concentration, “brain fog” and panic attacks, all very alarming!

3. Physical changes. It can be really disconcerting when your body starts to let you down — aching joints, irregular and erratic periods, loss of temperature control — to name but a few.

4. Career difficulties. Some women might have been successful in a career for years, yet suddenly start to doubt their ability. Most workplaces still don’t support menopausal women, which perpetuates stigma so that many women feel they have to hide their age and any symptoms they might be experiencing.

5. Loss of Fertility. Having choices over our lives removed is disempowering. Many women mourn the end of their fertile years, even if we’ve had children. If we’ve put off having children, or decided not to have them at all, there is a difference between that being our choice and nature making it impossible and many women who have been happy with their decisions are surprised by a feeling of loss.

6. General Life Changes. Very few people get to 50 without some experience of hardship or loss. Bereavement, joblessness, empty nest, divorce — big life changes often knock our confidence as what we have always believed to be normal life for us is turned on its head.

Losing confidence during the midlife transition is common, but doesn’t have to be inevitable. As we age we can become somewhat entrenched in the views we have developed and our own sense of what is right, comfortable and desirable.

I believe that the greatest skill needed to make the most of our midlife and beyond is the ability to embrace change. Adaptability, resilience, an open mind — these are the essential tools we need to be happy. The good news is that if you do find yourself struggling, these are attributes that we can develop or strengthen at any age, rebuilding our confidence and paving the way for a happy, more contented life.

Start now by making a list of your strengths, the things you like about yourself, the achievements that make you proud. They don’t have to be big things. I make a good Victoria sponge for example, leads you to think about the benefits of that attribute — my work colleagues love it when I bring cake into the office, or my grandchildren love Grandma’s chocolate brownies are positive thoughts that form the building blocks to increased confidence.

Download and keep our Kickstart Your Confidence PDF

Originally published on The Wise Women Blog on The Midlife Movement

I’m fine, thanks. That’s what we say, isn’t it, when asked how are you? I’m fine, thanks. But what if you’re not? What if you are sinking, struggling, not fine at all?

I live a fairly public life insofar as I have written about myself on blogs and in books, I show up regularly on Facebook live videos, on Youtube andon The Midlife and Beyond Podcast. Most people know me as optimistic, generally happy, always smiling.

If you follow my output regularly, though, you will know that I have had my battles with anxiety and depression throughout my life at various points. I always know when I’m starting to “slide”.

There are warning signs that I dare not ignore. These include:

• Staying up late into the night, usually working to distract myself
• Not wanting to get up in the morning (and not just because I’m tired after staying up late!)
• I don’t want to shower (I do — I promise!)
• I don’t want to talk to people
• I put off returning messages, or making phone calls
• I feel as if I need to stay very still — even a walk to the post box and back feels like too much activity
• I stop eating healthily
• I can’t be bothered to take my supplements

In other words, all the things I usually do as a matter of course that help to keep me mentally healthy are the first casualty when my mood dips. Exercise, good nutrition, general self care, connection with other people — all go out of the window.

That last is important. If you’ve never struggled with depression yourself it is probably difficult to understand why someone who is feeling low doesn’t reach out and ask for help. Because, for me at least, that is what I need.

I need someone to say to me, come on, let’s go for a walk in the sunshine. I need three healthy meals a day to be put in front of me. In other words, I need someone to step in and look after me when I am incapable of looking after myself.

I need someone to encourage me to talk, but also to just be there with me. I don’t need to be fixed, or jollied along. Because it will pass, as it always does (even though when it settles over me, I always think that this is IT — how I will be forever!)

So why don’t I simply ask for help? People think that depression means you feel extremely sad. In my experience, as I slide into it, I feel as if I am shrinking as an invisible wall grows up between me and other people. I don’t feel sad, I feel helpless. And hopeless. And scared. If it takes hold, I feel very little at all and it is this absence of feeling that traps me in inertia.

When my daughter lived at home for a short spell, she would notice the signs and make me go out with her. Sometimes, that’s all it takes. My son is good at spotting the signs and making time to talk with me. The best thing, though, is if I can catch myself early and change my state.

How do I do that? Sometimes I sleep. I listen to my body and stay very still if that’s what it craves. I eat the simple carbs, soak in the bath (much more nurturing than a shower!) read a book, watch the clouds scud across the sky…

Because the worst thing I can do is try to carry on as normal. That is a form of self harm for me. Most things you “have” to do can wait for a day or two. It’s worth some temporary inconvenience — to others as well as to yourself — to head off what could turn into months of mental illness.

So if I appear occasionally to “disappear” for a few days, know that I am doing what I need to do to stay well and, ultimately, happy. I can’t afford to beat myself up because I’m not being consistent every single day. We all operate in different ways and you know what? That’s ok.

Why am I telling you all this?

I’m telling you because I want you to know, if you suffer the way I do at times, that you are not alone. That the happiest looking people sometimes have secret battles that you would never guess at. And I want you to remember that what you see on social media is an edited version of life.

Life is messy and sad and uplifting and wonderful… but always worth living.

Much love,

Jo

Originally published on the Wise Women Blog on The Midlife Movement

Recently, I flew into Bordeaux, wearing my other “hat” as a Portrait and Personal Branding Photographer. I had three lovely ladies to photograph, all entrepreneurs, plus some “action shots” of the Business Retreat, run by coach, Karen Kissane. As I was there for the whole three days, I got to take part in some off the sessions and took advantage of the time to take a step back and really think about the direction I am taking with both my work and personal life.

Why am I telling you this? Well, it struck me that some of the exercises I did and the epiphany that I had might be relevant to many of my fellow “midlifers”!

This is a time for us to stop and reflect, a time of so many changes, challenges and opportunities. The Midlife Movement is about so much more than just the menopause!

The exercise that gave me most pause for thought was one on values. We were given a sheet of paper with lists of words like “family”, “independence”, “trust”, “home” etc — you get the picture. The idea was to underline the words most closely aligned with your values, then narrow them down to a list of 10, then put them in order so you had your top 3–5.

As Karen pointed out:

“When the things you do and the way you behave match your values, life is usually good — you’re satisfied and content. But when these don’t align with your personal values, that’s when things feel…wrong.”

It’s more difficult than you might think! Mine came out, as always, with family, kindness, empathy and authenticity coming out on top. But as we went around the table and others started to talk about connection, independence, wealth, ambition… I felt a little stirring of something like rebellion in the region of my heart.

My relationship and family have been my world for my entire adult life. They have been my focus to the extent that my SELF at one time had almost disappeared. (You can read about that time and how I worked my way through it in my book, “Oh Crap — I’m 50! A Journey from Fearful to Fabulous (Sometimes)” ) My children are now all grown. Three have children of their own and I LOVE being a grandma.

My husband has his work and his hobbies that are unchanging — he hasn’t been affected in the same way as I have by our empty nest. Nor has he been as affected, emotionally, by the boomerang-ing that goes on and the various ups and downs our children have experienced, whereas I have always been there, as chief counsellor, holder of space and secrets and stayer of emotional tsunamis. Whilst I take on that role willingly and with love, there’s no getting away from the fact that it’s bloody tiring!

I came home with the determination to work on my relationships, to bolster the “values” I have always held. But something happened when I got home. I slotted back into my role and realised that, like a jumper that’s shrunk in the wash, it no longer felt comfortable. It didn’t quite fit. I went to bed feeling unsettled and discombobulated.

I guess my subconscious mind got to work while I slept. I tossed and turned and woke up several times. And in the morning I had an epiphany. It was as if someone had opened the curtains and let the light flood in and everything became crystal clear.

Sitting the two members of my family who were home down at the table, I told them (lovingly!) how things are going to be from now on. Something along the lines of — I love you, I will always be there for you when you really need me, but from now on my priority is going to be me.

What does that mean? I wrote it down, so I can see it every day at my desk and keep myself accountable.

My priority is to make The Midlife Movement a success. Why?

• To reach and help as many women who are struggling as possible
• To create wealth so that I can help some of those who can’t afford to join, and to create independence, security and freedom for myself
• To have fun and enjoy my life

If that is selfish, then I am embracing selfishness. All that I know is that I feel energised by my decision to put myself first. I think it’s about time.

Originally published at https://www.themidlifemovement.com.

One of the most insidious barriers to achieving the life we want to lead has to be self doubt. Can I do this? Do I have the skills, the confidence, the resilience — do I dare?

Self doubt has been my nemesis for as long as I can remember.

I have always been full of big ideas — creativity and “big picture” thinking comes naturally to me. My excitement and enthusiasm can sweep me away to the point where I can create, fund and organise a project and then — bam! — I am paralysed by self doubt. Progress from then on can be slow and painful as I am crippled by those unconscious thoughts of “not good enough” and “who do I think I am?”

Those old familial mantras from the 1960s: “People like us” don’t do great things. We should “know our place” and “let our betters” get on with running the world, writing our books, producing our plays, creating our art.

“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.” William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure

I was born into a (mostly!) decent working class family in the Home Counties. The expectation was that I would go to school, learn how to cook and sew and get married at 20. One of my earliest memories, when I lived with my grandparents (so I was under 4) was of me tracing the words in the newspaper — The News of the World, I believe, which was a broadsheet then, and defunct now — knowing that the marks meant something and desperately wanting to know what they said. I remember the girl who was to become my father’s wife laughing and saying: “I hope she isn’t going to be a blue stocking!”*

I did marry young AND, arguably, became an “intellectual and literary” woman, but I was lucky in that my dad had ambitions “above his station.”

He moved us away from the seat of the family when he was promoted at work, recognising that he needed, personally, to distance himself from the environment in which he grew up.

National Service, for my dad, was an eye-opener. It took him away geographically from the area he knew and introduced him to new places and, crucially, new people. Lumped together for army training, he learned about other ways of living, thinking and doing. It opened his mind to new possibilities and made him realise he wasn’t doomed to follow his father into the quarries. The self discipline instilled in him during his 18 months service lasted him a lifetime.

I digress. As soon as Dad realised I had a good brain, he encouraged me to study and “better myself”. Being excused from domestic duties at home didn’t make me popular with my mum and sisters, (it put me on a par with my brother who, after all, as a boy didn’t have to do much around the house bar the odd bowl of washing and drying up!) It would infuriate my mum when I used to spend so much time reading as it was, in her eyes, such a “waste” of a girl’s time!

Dad was proud as punch when I became the first member of the family to go to University. It was a Polytechnic, actually, not a Russell Group University*. My inbuilt self doubt, which, by the age of 18, was firmly entrenched, meant I never dared to apply to the best, even though, secretly, I aspired to study at Oxford and Cambridge.

Consequently, I never really valued my place — it felt like second best, I worked hard to sabotage myself and dropped out after my first year (I was 44 when I finally completed a degree, with the Open University). Disappointing my father only served to underline my sense of worthlessness and self doubt.

“Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.” Suzy Kassem

Fast forward 40 years and, during the dying throes of a depressive period, I decided to perform a ritual to set my intention to move on and be happy. I typed out all the traits I loathed in myself, cut them into individual strips of paper, and burned them in the garden incinerator. Self doubt was one of them.

Imagine my horror when I came down the next morning, opened the lid of the incinerator and found self doubt lying on a pile of ashes, barely even singed!

There it was, mocking me in bold red type. Believe me, I set light again to that sucker and watched it burn this time!

And yet…and yet…

I guess the opposite of self doubt is self belief, so when my belief in myself wavers, my old resilient buddy starts to whisper in my ear.

I’m at the stage with this new venture, The Midlife Movement, where my headspace has been invaded once again by the niggling voice of self doubt. When I had the idea to create a membership site for women who feel fearful when they move into the peri-menopause — as I once did — I conducted my market research and knew there was a need.

It has taken months of hard work to bring my idea to fruition and both create the content, and gather content from coaches and experts I had never met before I began. It’s been exhausting, exhilarating and scary. I am so pleased with the end result — not that there will ever be an actual end as new content is being added to the site every month!

Feedback from early adopters has been incredible and humbling. I know, from them and from interaction in the free Facebook group, that there is a need for this resource. We arecreating a platform for midlife women to build their confidence, step into the lives they want to live and be happy in this exciting phase!

So where does the self doubt creep in? Not about the offering — the “product”, if you like.

No, the self doubt is rearing it’s ugly head because now I have to step out from behind the keyboard and present my beautiful, effective, shiny idea to the world. It feels like one of those dreams where you are naked in public. I’m scared.

I keep telling myself it’s not about me, it’s about my message and the thousands of women it could help. It’s about changing Western attitudes to ageing one woman at a time.

Surely that’s more important than whether I’m a bit overweight, or that some people in the online space might dislike what I say, or — perhaps worse! — that I might meet indifference. Isn’t it?

Maybe I need to burn a piece of paper with “self doubt” written on not every single day! Deep breath. Hold firm. And if you see me “out there” — whether doing a “live” on Facebook, or being interviewed, or guest blogging or any of the multitude of ordeals I am about to put myself through, please do let me know you’re watching or listening. Leave a comment, or a virtual hug. I would appreciate it more than words can say. Together, we are stronger!

© Jo Blackwell — The Midlife Movement 2019

Sources and Notes:

*bluestocking definition: an intelligent and well-educated woman who spends most of her time studying and is therefore not approved of by some men. (Cambridge English Dictionary)

The Blue Stockings Society was an informal women’s social and educational movement in England in the mid-18th century. (Wikipedia)

** The Russell Group represents 24 leading UK universities which are committed to maintaining the very best research, an outstanding teaching and learning experience and unrivalled links with business and the public sector. https://russellgroup.ac.uk

An updated version of this story can be found on the Wise Women Blog