Dear Dorothy,
I’m writing with a heavy heart, and quite frankly, a very tired mind. I’ve just turned 45, and instead of celebrating, I’ve been spiralling. I find myself constantly comparing where I am to where I thought I’d be. My career feels stagnant, my children are growing up and needing me less, and my marriage though steady feels more like cohabitation than companionship.
I dread this so-called “mid-life.” There’s this looming sense of time slipping away, dreams unfulfilled, and an overwhelming fear that it’s too late to make any real change. I look in the mirror and barely recognise myself, physically and emotionally. I’m scared I’ve peaked and now I’m just… coasting.
Please tell me, does this ever get better? Or is this just it?
Rose
Dear Rose,
First, let me assure you: you are not alone. Mid-life has a funny way of sneaking up on us, often armed with a suitcase full of self-doubt, a magnifying glass for regrets, and a tendency to rewrite the past in bolder, brighter ink than it perhaps deserves.
But here’s the truth: mid-life is not a dead end. It’s a bend in the road, a pivot point, if you will. And despite what society whispers (or shouts), it is not too late.
Yes, your children need you less. That doesn’t mean you’re less needed; it means you’re graduating into a new phase of motherhood. One where your wisdom becomes your superpower.
Yes, your marriage may feel a bit stale but perhaps it’s not broken, just in need of a new rhythm, a fresh conversation, or even a few laughs not centred around laundry or bills.
And as for your career? Many people make their most meaningful moves in their forties and fifties. You’ve got life experience, resilience, and a sharper sense of what matters—assets no twenty-something can buy.
Start small. Take yourself on a walk without your phone. Reconnect with an old hobby or friend. Seek out a coach or therapist, not because you’re broken, but because you’re evolving. Speak to your partner, not about chores or the children, but about you. And be gentle with yourself.
The dread you’re feeling is a signal, not a sentence. Listen to it. Let it nudge you towards rediscovery, not retreat. This chapter could still surprise you, if you permit yourself to turn the page.
Warmly,
Dorothy