Am I unusual?

Hi lovely,

I’ve never really done life the way you’re supposed to.

Not in a rebellious, anti-establishment way. Not to make a point. Not to go against the grain for the sake of it.

It’s just always been in my nature to meet the phase of life I’m in and respond to it honestly. And only afterwards realise, “Oh… this isn’t the normal way people do this.”

How interesting. I feel this most in midlife.

About a year ago, I consciously called in women who were quietly, confidently defying the storyline that says midlife gets smaller, slower, quieter.

And yes - life has softened.

There’s more rest. More discernment. More no.

And....

I still want to dance. I still want music in my body. I still want to follow a yes, even when it arrives past my usual bedtime.

On the weekend, I went to see a DJ at our local pub in Byron Bay.

Two friends were coming to meet me, one from the Gold Coast, one from down south. One brought her mum, who’s in her 70s. Another brought a friend, also in her 70s.

Five of us. Two women in their 70s. Three of us in midlife. Walking into a pub filled with kids in their late teens and early twenties.

The headlining DJ didn’t come on until 10pm. Which, for context, is when I’m usually already asleep.

What moved me most was watching the conditioning soften. 

We’ve been so neatly divided by age. By “stages.” By what you should be doing, and when you should be done with it.

Those two women in their 70s stayed out longer than me. They weren’t performing. They weren’t trying to be seen. They were simply letting the beat meet their bodies.

We were the first five on the dance floor. When we left, there were hundreds.

A security guard had been watching us all night. At one point he pointed at me and my girlfriend and called us up. He let us dance on the stage behind the DJ. Surrounded by stunning young women. But he chose us because we looked like we were having the most fun.

Everyone else was dancing to be seen. We were dancing because we couldn’t not.

And something opened.

Not just for us. For the room.

What keeps joy alive in me is my willingness to loosen the grip of what I’ve been told I should be in my body, my desire, my spirit as I age.

I honour midlife deeply. I honour rest. I honour slowness. I honour the privilege of growing older.

And...

I also remember that I can begin again. That I can say yes to experiences that aren’t typical for this stage of life.

The very next day, I spent five hours dancing with women in their 30s, 40s and 50s.

Women about to perform in the next round of Centre Stage. Women who were told they missed the boat. Too old. Too late. Too much. Not built for it.

And now they’re saying no. I’m a dancer. I always was. I’m doing this now.

So this is your reminder. Go do the thing.

The thing you were told you’re too old for. The thing you think you missed your chance at. The thing that still lives quietly inside you.

Joy doesn’t retire. Desire doesn’t expire.

And you don’t have to shrink just because time is passing.

Go live your life.

With love,

P.S.  If you’re feeling the pull to live more in tune with your rhythm - not the one you inherited, absorbed, or learned to perform - this is the heart of the work I do. Through connected conversation, deep listening, and attunement, we create space to hear what this phase of life is asking of you, and what you most want now. Sometimes all it takes is one honest conversation to give yourself permission.

Book yourself a discovery call & lets get the conversation started.

30 MINUTE COMPLIMENTARY DISCOVERY CALL