Grief doesn’t arrive with a neatly wrapped package of instructions. Neither does waking up one day and realizing you can’t read a restaurant menu without stretching your arm into another time zone.
Both grief and midlife scatter everything you once knew. Your body changes, your priorities shift, and suddenly, the roadmap you were following? It’s written in a language you don’t recognize. And let’s be honest, nobody feels equipped for that level of chaos.
But what if, instead of bracing for impact, you invited the chaos in—gave it a seat, poured it a cup of tea (or perhaps a very strong cocktail), and asked what it has to teach you?
If reading that made your stomach drop a bit, well, that's why I'm here.
Meet Your Guide on This Journey
Cancer first pulled me into its dance when I was a child, and we've tangoed again in midlife. I’ve sat by the bedsides of the dying and listened to whispered regrets that still echo in my bones. I know the sharp, unexpected gut-punch of loss—the kind that steals your breath in the middle of a grocery aisle. Grief has been my shadow, my teacher, and, in time, something I’ve learned not just to carry, but to honour.
But midlife and menopause? Oh, they didn’t just rearrange the furniture; they set the whole damn house on fire. Between body betrayals, existential shake-ups, and the undeniable reality that my favourite jeans may never fit again, this chapter has been… an initiation.
And yet, there’s something on the other side of all this upheaval. Strength. Clarity. A deeper, more defiant love for life and all its messy, complicated beauty.
If you’re reading this, you might be wondering:
Can I really make peace with this grief?
Will I ever feel like myself again?
Is it normal to cry over my old life and also the fact that I can’t sleep at 3 AM?
Yes. Yes. And, unfortunately, yes.
And you don’t have to navigate it alone.
Curious? Let’s have a no-pressure chat.
About grief. About midlife. About why your favourite mascara got discontinued just when you needed it most.