The first thing I know for sure is there is only one way you can fail and that’s if you believe you don’t deserve to win. The second thing I know for sure is that positive thoughts require energy and negative thoughts require no effort at all.

Moving One Block Can Cause the Whole Tower to Tumble

There is a myriad of reasons why a woman in mid-life and beyond might find herself in a state of emotional or financial crisis. It could be a messy divorce leaving bank accounts drained, worthless investments being found to be scams, or personal problems or health issues depleting life savings. It could be as simple as being laid off, with no one wanting to hire a 50-plus woman to their management team.

You may be struggling with feelings of irrelevancy, stress, hopelessness or lack of a sense of purpose. Are you in limbo, waiting patiently for that perfect moment to bloom?

If you’re 50 or older, you may feel redundant. Our youth-oriented society’s yardstick has measured us past our prime. Our allotted time to shine, be relevant and successful is over. We had our chance; if things didn’t work out, well, it’s too late now. Roll yourself out to the curb with a sign pinned to your chest that reads Past Due Date and wait for the refuse collector. What could we possibly have to offer this late in the game of life?

If where you currently live isn’t serving your soul, what is holding you back from moving to that seaside village, or adopting a country casual lifestyle or inner-city vibe? Is there a reason why you must live where you are currently residing? What is it that’s keeping you stationary? Is it family, friends, financial obligation, being the grandchildren’s babysitter, guilt of leaving family behind or fear of new beginnings? Is it possible you are making excuses so you don’t have to do anything?

“If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.” – Paulo Coelho

Have you researched other countries’ cost of living, healthcare and amenities? If you start surfing the internet, you’ll find many examples of women who’ve pulled up stakes, made that leap of faith and are living brand new lives for far less. Read their stories and get inspired!

Excellent healthcare can be cheaper in places such as Spain, Portugal, France and Mexico, to name a few. If you’re unsure, store your stuff with family or in a storage unit – just in case. Commit yourself to a few months or a year and see what happens. You just might be starting the next exciting chapter of the Book of You.

Downsizing

Many folks resist downsizing – it can be hard to decide what stays and what goes. You raised your children in your home, and happy memories are contained within those four walls. But sometimes, finances or physical health makes this option impossible. When I had to make this decision, I reminded myself that much of our “stuff” hadn’t been used in years, and folks just starting out might appreciate my well-cared-for items. Memories are transportable but hanging on to size 5 suits after retirement is just ludicrous.

Try looking at the positives. Downsizing means less stuff to dust. Brenda, a Facebook acquaintance, and her husband had a beautiful, large family home in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. They would have lived there forever if they could, but it became too expensive. So, this active, outdoorsy couple with a passion for travel and entertaining decided to move to sunny and hot Osoyoos, British Columbia, and downsized to an apartment condo.

The destination was perfect and the view spectacular, but the apartment was tiny. Going from a huge four-bedroom home to a one-bedroom was devastating for Brenda. She didn’t complain, but you could sense she was struggling in her Facebook posts.

Knowing how much she loved hiking and boating, I suggested that the square footage of her home may have decreased, but the size of her wilderness backyard was enormous and stunning! Her kids would love visiting with all that outdoor space and activities to enjoy. In the spring, when we were still getting hit with Calgary, Alberta snowstorms, I was envious of her Facebook photos of sailboats on the lake and flowers blooming everywhere.

It’s all in the way you look at it; appreciate what you have, not what you don’t. I know few people who would complain about beautiful Osoyoos. By the way, a few years later, Brenda and her husband upgraded to an even larger condo in the same building, bought a boat and fell in love with their new lifestyle. Nothing stays the same forever. Keep moving forward, and you’ll get what you want.

I go out of my way to behave the exact opposite of what is expected of a person my age — much to the chagrin of my family. And even though I am a senior in years, I pride myself on feeling 25 years younger. But when shingles ambushed my body, I was stunned to discover what I was up against!

On July 2, while volunteering at the Calgary Jazz Festival, I noticed pain in my side and lower back. It felt as though the belt I was wearing was scratching my skin. But that couldn’t be — my belt was over my shirt, not under.
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The following day I noticed a few red spots on my right side, which I attributed to an allergic reaction to something I ate. But by the end of the day, I had a sneaky feeling something was up. So when a nasty rash bloomed, it became clear what I was dealing with. A disease that old people get (or so I thought) — shingles! How could someone as healthy and active as me come down with this ugly malady?

I have an appointment on November 19 at 3:30 p.m. It says so right here — on the pad of paper I keep beside my laptop in my office. It is circled in red so I don’t forget to put it in my calendar. Well done me. Now if I could only remember who the appointment is with. I distinctly remember phoning someone and arranging this booking and being surprised that I couldn’t get in sooner.

It isn’t my doctor, nor my dentist (that’s today), not my editor, it’s too late in the day for lunch with a friend, and my hair stylist isn’t until November 26. Maybe it’s with the memory clinic. Hell if I can remember!

My mother is 103 and suffers from dementia. But we were told it was due to her coming down with COVID and it does not run in our family. So what’s my problem?

My husband thinks it might be a delayed reaction caused by us older babyboomers chasing the DDT fog trucks down the streets of Southern Ontario back in the 1950s, spewing their contents into our faces. Now wasn’t that a good idea! Playing in the murderous fog, filling our lungs with poison. I can’t remember if it was to kill the mosquitoes or the weeds. But it was certainly killing something since it’s now banned in Canada.

I’ve been on hiatus from Medium. I had, along with so many others, taken up arms against the filthiest opponent on earth. That piece of sh*t called cancer had come to tear our son apart.

When melanoma first attacked Alex’s healthy and athletic body, he was 38 years old. Single, starting a new career with a company he loved, and getting closer to owning that hobby farm he dreamed of. He would have to go out and buy a new pair of shades for that bright future!

Our family had been pacified into believing surgery and treatment had won the battle. Future check-ups proved that cancer had been stopped in its tracks, and we could stop holding our breath and get back to leading our lives. Cancer did not run in our family; therefore, it was merely a blip on Alex’s timeline.

But this turned out to be false. At the time, we didn’t know melanoma was incurable — it can only be lulled into behaving itself. Instead, it seemed cancer had merely been toying with Alex and had quietly been regrouping in a twisted game of death by inches. It wanted another go at him.

I think this blog post - which I wrote a couple of years ago - will give you a good overview of who I am and what you can expect to hear from me. This is just the beginning of our friendship.

As someone who has spent her entire life on the peripheral, I know all about being a square peg in a round hole. As a beauteous, shy young woman who desperately wanted to fit in, I would never have thought to say anything that ran contrary to popular opinion.

If I kept my mouth shut, faked ‘normal’, smiled alluringly, and just stood there being impartial, I would not be in danger of committing popular suicide. But in the back of my mind, I knew I was tilting oh so slightly on the normalcy scale. At the time, I just didn’t realize that was actually a gift and not an obstacle to overcome.

As time passed, my struggle with self-image continued into middle age and I sought out someone to emulate. If my life story were to be made into a movie, who would I want to play me? The elegant Jane Seymour or the quirky Ellen Barkin?

Mrs. Perfect in Every Way
You know who she is. The woman who always gets voted to chair the committee, the one most admired for her skills at — well, everything! Women clamor around her hoping her wonderfulness might rub off on them or, dare I say, be invited into her inner circle of BFFs.

You just know if you knocked on her door at 2 a.m., she would greet you as if expecting company: hair stylishly messy, designer housecoat with matching glass slippers, benevolent, honey-sweet words greeting you from her well-defined cupid’s bow lips.

She was Olivia de Havilland to my Bette Davis. Catch me at 2 a.m. and you would be greeted by a disheveled Marilyn Manson. She is the one everyone says, “She’s just so nice. Let’s make her our leader.” I hated her yet wanted to be just like her.​