Getting clear on what I want

Happy Sunday, Midlifers,

How are you? Can you believe we’ve already tipped past the middle of July? In the year 2026? I know many of you will remember the year 1996 and how the looming new millennium was almost unimaginable. The year 2000 was the stuff of science fiction, not reality. And now, here we are, pushing our way toward the fourth decade of this new millennium.

What this also means is that my 60th birthday is now less than a month away, which is also historically the same time each year that I start to freak out about The State of Things. I start doing a full audit of my life and generally decide that it’s not where I want it to be and then fall down rabbit holes wishing things were different. And then the day after my birthday, I am perfectly fine for another year (I mean, ish).

This year, I think this period of reflection started way earlier than one month before my birthday. I’m pretty sure I’ve been thinking hard about this since I turned 59 last year. Contemplating what I want my life to look like and considering whether where I am now aligns with my values. Is my outer life in life with my inner life’s frequency?

During that winter of my early sobriety, around January 2021, I knew that what I wanted my life to look like was nowhere near where I was. Specifically, in the finances department. Back then, I was cobbling together freelance writing jobs but mostly dependent upon financial support from my ex husband through child support and alimony. But the kids were getting older and he was always taking me back to court to re-litigate his financial obligation and I could read the writing on the walls. I knew I needed to take control of my own financial future. I knew I needed to be the captain of my own ship.

But at that point, I’d spent the majority of my adult years at home raising my four children. I’d had a couple of full-time work stints — briefly at a local weekly paper and then a few years editing an online news site — but at that point I was doing a lot of freelance writing for a New Jersey monthly magazine plus writing blogs about natural stone and sperm (literally, the company was called SpermCheck).

I went out one early January morning to the nearby Staples and picked up a big bulletin board and then went to CVS to grab a bunch of magazines (remember magazines?) and went home and sat on my office floor and started tearing out things that spoke to me and pinning them onto the cork board.

I also printed out a bunch of images and text that resonated. There was a ton about sobriety, and also a lot about writing since around that time I also started working on a memoir. My girls Kelly Corrigan, Anna Quindlen and Mary Laura Philpott were there and the NYTimes banner, back when I got an actual newspaper each weekend.

I remember was searching for a visually pleasing version of Mary Oliver’s “The Journey,” which I printed out and pinned to the top of the board, just about in the center. Later, I also added a picture of a woman standing at the helm of a ship, which my hard-working printer also chugged out and I placed near the center of my board.

Thinking about being the captain of my own ship, at some point I’d also discovered the poem “Invictus,” which also got added to the board later. Something about, “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul” spoke to me. I was tired of being dependent upon another person, especially someone who was so triggered by finances. I wanted to make my own money and spend it any way I pleased. I wanted to be in control of my destiny and not waiting for the other shoe to drop and find a letter from an attorney sitting in my mailbox one day, threatening yet another round of financial and emotional upheaval.

For a long time, that bulletin board sat in my office and I’d look at it from time to time and be reminded of my goal of independence — which felt like such a pipe dream. How would a long-time, stay-at-home-mom be able to make enough money to support herself?

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In mid-January, about three months into sobriety, I got a text from a woman who I’d worked with on and off for almost 20 years, telling me she had an opening on her content team at a tech company and did I want to apply. She told me I’d be competing with candidates from all over the country since, at that point, the role was fully remote, and warned me that the job would be a huge life change.

But all I could think about was the steady paycheck and built-in healthcare, and immediately set to work blowing the dust off my resume to update, which I then shared with a few professional women I knew. I made it through a few rounds of interviews and headed toward the cognitive assessment, which I studied for like my life depended on it. I spent a full weekend taking practice exams and watched YouTube videos to remember how to work with fractions and decimals. I even downloaded an app that gamefied math problems to help me prepare for the exam.

That’s how much I wanted that job.

When I got the job offer in February, I hung up the phone with the recruiter and fell to my knees in thanks before texting all my kids, who responded with things like, “FUCK YEAH MOM” with tons and tons of emojis. They were so proud of and happy for me.

Wait, did I say that I was 54?

And it turned out, my friend and new manager was right, the job was super hard and my life changed dramatically. But I kept at it. And while the salary was more than I’d ever made in my life and I was so proud of myself, it was not a livable wage—especially with a college tuition to pay for — so I was glad to still have the financial lift from alimony.

Around the same time I got the job, my kids’ father lost his, and if that’s not good timing, I don’t know what is. And that opened the door to all sorts of new legal nonsense, which resulted in getting a buyout on my lifetime alimony. I was ready to be done watiting for the financial shoe to drop at any moment.

So sometime toward the end of 2023, that’s what happened. I got my full buyout and was financially cut loose. I was, at last, the captain of my own ship.

It took me some time to understand that that vision board I spent one Saturday afternoon creating had become a reality. How taking the time to buy the board and magazines and cut and pin was the start of getting really clear on what I wanted for my life. What I valued. Back then, in early 2021, it was freedom and independence. And I worked so hard to get it. Since I started my journey in Corporate America over five years ago, I’ve navigated a few different roles and teams and am now leading a team of my own. I am, as they say in CA, a people leader. I make decks and have 1:1s (one-on-ones for those not in the know) with the best of them. I align hard with my stakeholders.

I am, literally, a boss.

But now, I am finding myself back in that place where I was when I bought that bulleting board. In fact, yesterday afternoon, I started a new vision board but this time, it’s fully digital — no scissors necessary, just a Canva account. And so far, one of the only things I have on there is yet another poem by Mary Oliver.

And maybe, for now, that’s all I need. I give so much time and attention to digital content — whether that’s Instagram, TikTok or television — and think, if I really want The Universe to know I’m serious, I need to give some more energy to that final line. To the telling of what I see.

It’s hard though, guys, when I still have 1.5 seasons left to watch of Couples Therapy! What will Dr. Orna do without me? And the internet is a never-ending source of delicious dopamine hits. Yum. Yum. Yum.

But I go back to Oliver’s “The Journey.” How, as this new decade approaches for me, I am listening more than ever to that voice, which I have only started to hear — very faintly — in the last few years. What is she saying? What does she want? Or need? Who does she want to be?

The stars are burning through the clouds. There are pinpricks of light above me. I continue to walk deeper and deeper into the wilderness and even though it’s dark, I can make out shapes in the distance. And I am using my heart as my compass. Asking her which way to go next.

There’s a lot of hype around Nordstrom’s annual anniversary sale, and while I put a few things on my “wish list” earlier in the week, I only ended up buying two things. First, I stocked up on Oribe’s Gold Lust shampoo and conditioner because it’s my ride-or-die fave. Plus, it comes with both regular and travel sizes so my hair will smell extra fancy while I’m in a cabin in the Maine woods.

The second item was a bougie Flamingo Estate gift set I picked up as a hostess gift for an upcoming stay. Nothing says, “Thanks for having me,” more than tomato-scented hand soap.

Still on my Nordstrom “wish list”

This Monica Vinader ring is kinda baller but I resisted in an effort to be more financially prudent. And I have a similar pair of flats from Target like these Vionics, which are probably about 1,000 times more comfortable but again, I’m trying to hold my spending horses.

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xoAmy