07/09/2025
“What?! I thought you were 38, not 48.”
I’ve heard this a lot lately. And in all honestly? There’s a part of me that loves it. But there’s another part of me that wants to dig deeper, why does this matter so much?
Why, as women, are we celebrated for looking younger than our biological age, while men are revered for being silver foxes - wrinkles considered distinguished rather than haggard? Why do I still care, when I absolutely wouldn’t trade my current self for the woman I was at 28 or even 38?
Because I wouldn’t. Not for anything. The depth I’ve gained, the wisdom, the resilience, the empathy, the softness in places that used to be rigid - these are hard-earned gifts. They’ve come from life, and I love who I’ve become.
So why does some part of me still cling to youthfulness?
The truth is, I take exceptional care of myself – no longer (completely!) driven by vanity, but because of how vibrant I feel when I do. My life might look “boring” from the outside looking in to some. Alcohol free, a macro nutrient-rich diet, daily movement practices, breathwork, sauna, ice baths, prioritised sleep - I even gave up coffee this year. I tend to my body, mind, and soul with devotion And yes, I’ve had an incredibly good skincare routine with high quality products since my late teens (thank you, teenage breakouts).
But the reality is I am getting older. No matter how much I nurture myself, perimenopause is here there is no avoiding it. The 3am wake-ups that stretch into hours. The mornings where sleep feels like it will forever escape me. The body shifting in ways I can’t control. And the lack of control I have over this has been the biggest teacher.
This season has been about surrender. About being in the “nothing” when the tools I’ve leaned on don’t work. About lying awake in the still of the night, realising that maybe this is what I need: to understand what insomnia feels like, to be alone with my thoughts, to let creativity bubble up in the quiet hours.
Sometimes the breathwork helps. Sometimes yoga nidra helps. Sometimes the journalling does. But not always. And that’s okay. Because the biggest shift in me has been this - I no longer need to fix everything. I can accept what is.
I see this as an initiation. A threshold where women are invited to fully step into their power, but not without first sitting in the void, in the discomfort of the unknown, and learning to trust what’s being asked of us.
So yes, people still think I look younger than I am. But maybe the real beauty is in how I hold myself now - in my depth, my surrender, my capacity to live fully in what is.
What about you? Do you feel this paradox too? Loving who you’ve become, but still wanting to hold on to youth?
