The Awakening continued

The Awakening

The Awakening is like going through life color-blind and suddenly seeing purple for the first time. It’s like catching the scent of freshly baked buns in Grandma’s kitchen early on a Sunday morning. The Awakening is freedom. It’s the shift into a new season of life, of heightened awareness, and of sacred time.

It took me a while to admit that time had caught up with me. Turning 50 was beautiful. It felt like a rededication of self. I was inspired to become a new, improved, fabulous, and carefree version of me. I was ready to live my life like it was golden. I was determined to do all the things I had once only dreamed of. And surprisingly—I did. I checked off most of the goals on my “want-to-do bucket list.”

I wrote and published my first book. I launched a business with my children. I celebrated my 50th birthday in grand style. I walked in my first fashion show. Life was good... or so I thought.

But deep inside, something still felt off. A quiet emptiness lingered. There was a shadow I couldn’t name, following me in silence. It crept in as depression, anxiety, and simmering anger. Passive-aggressive behaviors became second nature. No one really knew what I was going through—I had mastered the art of masking my emotions. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. And truthfully, I had gotten so used to carrying everyone else’s burdens that I conveniently didn’t make time for my own.

That’s the tricky part of being a nurturer—we pour into the world because we don’t always know how to pour into ourselves.

So, I tried everything. I lost weight. Got a new hairstyle. Felt cute again. I went out more, explored new ventures, traveled to new states, met new people, tried new foods—and yes, even tried a few new men. Still, nothing filled that hollow echo inside. Nothing soothed that aching void.

My children were grown. I was newly single, having divorced my husband—again—for the second and final time. And while 50 is supposed to be the season where you’ve learned your lessons, recovered from your missteps, refocused, and started living your best life... I couldn’t help but wonder: So what was wrong with me?

It took several more years to understand the truth.

I had been searching for an outward solution to an inward problem.