I never thought I’d feel this way.
For so long, my life was full. Not necessarily always in a good way, but full nonetheless—of responsibilities, of obligations, of things to do, places to be, people to take care of. I was a mom, a manager, a student, a wife, a woman constantly moving from one task to the next, never really stopping to think about what I wanted. Because when would I have had the time?
Then, almost without warning, everything slowed down.
My kids grew more independent. The gym I managed shut down. I finally finished my degree—something I had been chipping away at for years. I left church and religion (that’s a whole story for another time), and along with it, I lost a built-in community. And, after working myself into the ground for most of my life, I started working from home part-time, giving me more freedom than I’d ever had before.
In theory, that should’ve felt amazing. I should’ve felt relieved, energized by all the possibilities ahead of me. But instead? I felt nothing.
The Slow Burn of Apathy
It wasn’t a sudden thing. It was more like a slow leak, this creeping sense of why bother? At first, I chalked it up to burnout. I told myself I was just recovering from years of doing too much. That I deserved this time to relax, to unwind, to just be. But the problem was, I wasn’t doing anything. And I didn’t want to do anything.
I didn’t feel excited about the things that used to light me up. I wasn’t making plans, I wasn’t seeing friends, I wasn’t going out of my way to create fun or joy. It was like I had slipped into a fog where everything felt… muted. I was still showing up for my family, still doing what needed to be done, but inside? I felt disconnected. Empty.
And that scared me.
Because that’s not who I am.
Hormones Helped—But They Weren’t the Whole Answer
Eventually, I realized this wasn’t just about my circumstances—it was also about my body. Perimenopause had been quietly wreaking havoc on me for years, and I didn’t even realize it. The fatigue, the mood swings, the weight gain, the irritability—it all made sense once I started learning about hormonal shifts in midlife.
So, I got on hormone replacement therapy—testosterone and progesterone—and the difference was huge. I started feeling like me again. My energy came back. My motivation to work out returned. I cared about my physical appearance again—not in a shallow way, but in a I want to feel good in my skin again way.
But even after all of that, something was still missing.
I had tackled the physical side of things. But my soul? That part still felt empty.
What Happens When You Let Go of Too Much?
Somewhere along the way, I had let go of a lot. And I had needed to.
I had to let go of indulgent food because I had a food addiction that was keeping me trapped in a cycle of guilt and self-destruction.
I had to let go of toxic environments, including ones that no longer aligned with who I was growing into.
I had to let go of overworking myself to the point of exhaustion.
But in the process, I also let go of fun.
I stopped going on vacations. I stopped making plans with friends. I stopped seeking out new experiences. And because I work from home and live in the country, I spend most of my time secluded—just me, my computer, and the walls of my house. I told myself I didn’t need all those things, that I was fine just focusing on my health, my family, and my work.
But was I?
Because now, I look around and realize how small my world has become.
The Search for Purpose (Again)
I think a lot of women get to this point. We spend years being so much for other people—moms, wives, caregivers, workers, leaders. And then one day, the things that kept us busy, that gave us purpose, aren’t as demanding anymore.
And we’re left standing there, wondering: Who am I now?
For me, the answer isn’t religion. I don’t want to go back to that, but I do want to reconnect with something bigger than myself. I want to tap into that deeper part of me that still believes in joy, in magic, in purpose.
I know I need a creative outlet. I need something that excites me, something that makes me lose track of time. Writing has always been that for me, which is one reason I started this blog. But I also know I need more. More experiences, more community, more living.
Because if I don’t start filling myself back up, the apathy will keep creeping in.
Is This Just Me?
I don’t think so.
I think a lot of us get stuck in this place where we’ve spent so long being everything to everyone else that we don’t even know what we want anymore. Where we’ve gotten so used to getting through the day that we’ve forgotten how to actually enjoy it.
And I don’t have the perfect answer for how to fix it. But I know I’m done settling for just okay. I want to wake up excited again. I want to feel alive again.
So, I’m figuring it out.
And if you’re feeling the same way, maybe we can figure it out together.
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