A personal reflection on change, letting go, and choosing now

As we approach Independence Day here in the U.S., I’ve been reflecting on what freedom really means—not just in the historical or patriotic sense, but on a deeply personal level.

This July, my own life is standing at the edge of a new chapter. After nearly 21 years in my current home in Concord, NH, I’m saying goodbye. And yes—it’s a messy mix of emotions.

This house has held so many chapters of my life:
Raising children. Gathering family and friends. Grieving losses. Discovering who I am, and who I am becoming.

But the time has come. And a new adventure is calling. We’ve bought a new home in Lee, NH, and this move is ushering in a season of change, clarity, and, dare I say… freedom.

Believe you are worthy of your dreams and that life’s timing is perfect, even when it doesn’t match your own.

💫 Keep going. Keep trusting. Keep acting, gently and bravely, in the direction of your dreams. Your future self is already so grateful.

“Do you ever feel like you're in constant negotiations with the universe? Trading rest for results, joy for achievement? What if the universe isn’t testing you, but responding to you?

Boundaries are a game-changer, and often a life-long pursuit. They define acceptable behavior and set the tone for how we want to be treated. They protect us from harm such as manipulation, codependency, and self-neglect and prevent us from harming ourselves and others due to unstable relationships, lack of trust and respect, and poor communication.

How do you introduce yourself without any mention of your job title, position in the workplace, and role in relationships?

It isn’t easy.

Tell me, do you set New Year resolutions? Nearly 60% of younger adults, age 18-34, do. And, although only 19% of adults 55 and older set resolutions, I do too.

“In the midst of winder, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.  And that makes me happy.  For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger— something better, pushing right back.” ~Albert Camus.

It’s winter here in New Hampshire.

Winter, the season of rest, restoration and reflection. I’m looking forward to enjoying all of those things.

Tell me, do you have the ability to laugh at yourself? What inspires you to do so?

If you need inspiration, I highly recommend finding a less-than-ideal photo of yourself and giving yourself a mustache.

Lessons and teachers show up when we least expect them, often masqueraded as challenging individuals and situations.

“I just want someone else to make the decision for me.” he said, revealing a mix of self-doubt, fear, and uncertainty.

“You can’t move into another job in the company.” he said directly. “We won’t let you. You are too valuable doing the job you do now for us to let you do something else.”

I didn’t feel valuable. I felt powerless.

I felt stuck.

I had become a woman who did not voice her opinion, especially if it was contrary to others. It was so much easier that way. Until, after being home with babies for a few years, I went back to work full-time.

At work, I voiced my opinions, made authoritative decisions, negotiated solutions, and resolved conflicts.

At work, my opinion was valued and respected as was my confidence and authority. By men. And women.

And it felt good.

One of the patterns I’ve struggled with over the years is my evening routine.

It is a routine that involves a big, comfy chair, a television, a glass of wine or two, and more often than not, scrolling social media.

“Each person is born with an unencumbered spot - free of expectation and regret, free of ambition and embarrassment, free of fear and worry…” ~ Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening.

This photo of me, which brought tears to my eyes in the not-so-distant past, is what I imagine that unencumbered spot in me looks like.

Have you ever found yourself wondering how you got to where you are?

I don’t mean when you have a million things on your mind and don’t even notice when you drive by the exit you meant to take on the highway.

I mean when you realize that you have forgotten your dreams