Last week, as we packed up and moved out of the home where our family has lived for the last decade, I was struck by the sheer weight of transition. Although we chose it, this move was driven by factors beyond our control. Sorting through every room—packing away my childhood memories alongside those of my children—was a profound act of honoring our past and bidding it farewell.
The dynamics of family change, and while some are expected emotionally, they still catch us off guard. No one really explains the emotional complexity of watching your children grow up and redefine their lives, leaving home to return only briefly, and the personal journey of healing our childhood wounds through caring for someone else.
This milestone change leaves many of us feeling unmoored; for some, it brings a sense of liberation. Over the past year, I've questioned the true essence of a home and what it means to navigate the cycles of continually coming together and falling apart.
Parenting evolves from actively protecting our young children—simple tasks like safely crossing the street—to a more passive role as they mature. Suddenly, we're not leading the charge; we're observers in their lives, much like our parents were in ours. While packing, I found some gems that took me right back to the time and place in my father's arms, feeling safe and secure. Cared for. How is it that it was over four decades ago? When I look at our faces in this photo, I am reminded of how deeply connected I was to him and how, over many years of tumult, acceptance, and love, we can both now look back at the photo with deep affection. It almost looks like he is holding my oldest daughter in his arms – my youngest daughter has his face—sacred memories etched in our genetics.
Cultural narratives about parenting have reached unsustainable norms. The irony can be found in lighthearted memes about overhydrated and overserved children, we know, and yet... I remember making a full map of the building where my daughter would be going to high school so she knew how to get from class to class. I cringe at the thought, and yet... how intertwined our lives can become and the fever pitch of modern parenting expectations.
Ultimately, I'm trying to piece together how we all move forward, inspired by the wisdom of women who've navigated these shifts before me. They've experienced the pain of letting go only to flourish anew, regardless of whether you have children. This process reshapes our relationships and personal growth in unexpected, beautiful ways.
Where do we find our sanctuary if a house does not define a home? This question forces us to look beyond physical spaces and discover comfort within ourselves and our relationships with others. It's about teaching our children—and reminding ourselves—that the truest sense of safety often comes from within, guided by our internal compass. To cultivate this inner sanctuary, we must first tune into our needs and emotions, understanding what fills us—paying close attention to body signals. How do you feel spending time with people who make you feel seen, safe, and heard?
As we continue on this path, I recognize that sanctuary isn't a place but a state of being—found in moments of connection, shared laughter, and even solitude. Within these walls of love and understanding, we build our homes, unbound by geography but deeply rooted in our hearts.
In gratitude,
Ali, Forty Fifty
ICYMI
“The day I became a woman at 11 was emotional and exciting as I realized my period was the first step in my body changing from a young girl into a woman. To one day become a mom to you. But something didn't feel quite right. The pain and discomfort I was experiencing became a concern at a young age. As I moved from high school to college, it became a daily sickness. I had so many questions and no answers. I knew I needed to find the right doctor to determine what was wrong with me.” Read Amy’s Story.
Other Reads This Week
Women in Menopause Are Getting Short Shrift
Marci Bowers, an experienced gynecologist, noticed significant shortcomings in menopause care after moving to a gender-affirmation surgical practice. She realized that menopausal women often only receive estrogen despite having a wide range of symptoms that affect the entire body. By comparing menopause to gender transition—both significant hormonal changes—Bowers and other providers started using a more holistic approach, including testosterone, for menopause treatment. This method, inspired by transgender health care, highlighted the need for broader care options and more open discussions about sexual health and hormones in menopause treatment.
Substack Recommendations
Is it dumb to quit something I worked hard to get? by Emily McDowell
The piece challenges the common use of the term "lazy," arguing it inaccurately and unhelpfully describes human behavior. Therapeutic observations suggest that what is often labeled as laziness is actually a natural response to unmet needs—such as rest, emotional support, or physical health. The author compares humans to plants, noting that neither fails without cause; both simply reflect their conditions.
A Call For Submissions!
Every woman has stories of triumph, resilience, laughter, and learning. These narratives, woven from the threads of our experiences, are not just personal tales but collective wisdom waiting to be shared. That's why we're reaching out to you, our vibrant community, with an invitation: share your story with us.
Whether it's a tale of overcoming obstacles, a chronicle of personal discovery, or a memory that brings a smile, your story matters. By sharing your experiences, you own your truth and light the path for others.
This is so beautiful, Ali. Your words about home, as it changes for us and our families over the years, almost imperceptibly, resonates very much. "Sacred memories etched in our genetics," - perfectly put. And what a precious photo!
Thank you so very much Jenni! A very personal piece. ♥️