Yesterday I turned 53. It’s been a big year of seeing myself literally and figuratively: a different skin, a new role, and as an individual again. The last couple of decades I had heavily weighed my identity and value into motherhood, being a wife, and maintaining a career. I knew menopause and the empty nest would eventually happen, yet it really hit harder than I had planned or imagined.

God can throw you hard-hitting lessons when you don’t heed the signs. I got to experience the empty nest syndrome, a career change, health challenges, and a pandemic while going thru the mood swings and body changes of menopause.

…But I’m grateful in a roundabout way for the pandemic. It gave me the time and forced me to address things I would have normally ignored or just push through.

What is my new Identity?

What is my value and worth?

What do I actually like to do?

Do my husband and I have anything in common anymore?

Will he still find me interesting?

Do I still have it?

How do I get it back?

What do I do with all this silence?

Should I get a piercing, tattoo, or dye my hair?

How should I dress now?

Is this appropriate for my age?

Does my hairstyle date me?

Is any of this FUCKING normal?

The biggest takeaway from my 52nd trip around the sun was not only learning to be still and kind to myself, but also returning, reintroducing myself, and seeing myself as just me.

So here’s me. Self-portrait in my studio. Showing off my new skin, as uncomfortable as it may be.