It's Monday morning, and I'm here in my home office with a cup of coffee, looking out over the rooftops of my beautiful old neighborhood. Beyond the tall Altbau buildings, the city is already awake. Cyclists cruise past on their way to work, parents walk their children to school with little Schulranzen bouncing behind them, and a small crowd, some of whom I can identify after 17 years of living here, are patiently gathered at the traffic light on the corner of my street. Behind me lies the lush, green Eilenriede forest, one of Europe's largest urban forests, and in front - the streets below along with the passing Straßenbahn - and I often think how lucky I am to live between two worlds… surrounded by trees on one side and the rhythm of city life on the other.
Yet I can’t stare out the window for long. There is a day to begin, work to start, deadlines to meet.
But first, I catch up on the news.
In fact, this is also a good time to see what’s new on Substack.
After a quick scan, I land on an article about women reaching midlife and entering what the writer called their “f*ck it era.” I’ve been hearing this phrase everywhere… on T-shirts, mugs, and all over social media. It’s almost as though the day our periods end, someone hands us a welcome packet: a bullet-proof vest, a tough new identity, and a “scientifically endorsed” guide explaining exactly how few f*cks we’re supposed to give.
Only... that’s not really what the science says.
The basic premise is that somewhere around our forties and fifties, our brains and hormones begin to shift, and we stop worrying so much about pleasing everyone around us. We finally begin saying exactly what we think. And judging by the thousands of comments beneath the article I read, it clearly touched something deep - many women saw themselves in those words, and I can completely understand why.
And I get it. There is something incredibly liberating about giving yourself permission to stop carrying everyone else’s emotional baggage. Many of us have spent decades smoothing things over, making ourselves smaller, softening our opinions, apologizing when we didn’t need to, and putting the comfort of others before our own. But not all of us. Some of us refused to carry baggage very early on. I have friends who never made themselves small, ever.
Yet, it’s no wonder that at some point in later life, many women decide they simply don’t have the energy for that anymore. I get it.
But as I sat with the article, another thought kept returning to me.
Don’t put women in another box.
Women spend their entire lives trying to climb out of one set of expectations only to find another one waiting just around the corner.
When we’re young we’re told who we should be, how we should look, how ambitious we should or shouldn’t be, when to have kids, when to get married by, whether we’re too emotional, too quiet, too loud, too much. Then, just as we begin to feel more comfortable in our own skin, along comes another collection of labels explaining who women over forty or fifty apparently are.
Now we’re all supposed to be in our f*ck it era. We’re supposed to wear bold clothes, say bold things, do bold things, take big risks.
Honestly, I’ll never be in my f*ck it era. I’m not an overly bold person. I never will be because I don’t want to be. I don’t want to “protect my peace” or be part of the “We Do Not Care Club”. I don’t want to slip into honoring or pushing a lifestyle of emotional detachment. And… not everyone, including me, cares to reinvent myself. I’m happy in my design bubble. I’ll stay here forever.
I’m not saying these phrases or ideas are necessarily wrong, but because they become another identity we’re supposed to wear, another script we’re expected to follow, a way of measuring ourselves against someone else’s definition of what this stage of life should look like, I raise an eyebrow.
I was discussing marketing with a client last week and I love something that I learned about her. She doesn’t define an age for her demographic - instead she follows a different rule (she’s 49) - she doesn’t seek people who match an age, she seeks those who match an energy. Her energy. The energy she is putting out there through her products and services.
And energy knows no age.
I love that.
When I wake up each day, I wonder how I can make something beautiful or better for others, and how I can make enough money to keep supporting our life here. I want to see my son off to school with a smile - staying positive and connected to him emotionally through good and bad. I want to connect with people who have good energy, or at least people who need my good energy so I can lift them and make them feel ready to conquer something they’ve felt overwhelmed by whether that’s a business problem or something more personal within their living space.
I think about my work, my son, my friends, the light coming through the windows of my apartment, the flowers at the market, the notebook on my desk that’s filling up with ideas. I think about how I can become a little more courageous and a little more honest with myself than I was yesterday.
What I’m not thinking of is only myself, my vision board, my next move, my life, my needs, myself. I’m not in my f*ck it era, even though that article and countless others told me I biologically should be, and if I’m not, something must be off or I haven’t caught up yet.
Sure, the older I get, the less interested I become in pleasing everyone. That’s maybe a bit true but it’s more accurate to say that I still want to please people and make them happy but I’m more tired than I was a decade ago and when I’m tired I lose interest - not because I care less, but because I can’t stay up late enough to text back. It’s also due to life experience and how much I’ve learned from my mistakes, not because my brain has auto-rewired itself to care less or because my hormones have changed so drastically that I’m telling everyone suddenly to go f*ck themselves as I create female empowerment videos in my car for Instagram.
These broad statements streaming from the internet about what women are supposedly like after a certain birthday is irritating.
Because there are many of us who stay silent during these empowerment rants - we don’t agree - and as a result we’re not represented at all. But we exist. I can’t sleep when I know I owe someone an apology or I overstepped something.
Because as we age, sure, some women become more outspoken. Some discover a confidence they’ve never known before. But let’s not forget the countless other women whose lives are unfolding in entirely different ways.
There are women navigating grief, divorce, illness, caregiving, financial uncertainty, or simply trying to figure out who they are now that life looks nothing like they imagined. Some become wonderfully adventurous, while others discover that what they crave most is a quiet evening at home and bedtime by 9 p.m. Some continue to care deeply about harmony and diplomacy, not because they’re afraid to speak up, but because kindness is woven into the fabric of who they are.
As for me, I’m not entering my “f*ck it” era or my “f*ck off era.
If anything, I’m entering a softer and wayyy more creative version of me. I’m developing much more into an artist.
AND I LOVE THIS SO MUCH.
I find myself becoming more sensitive, more affectionate, more intuitive, and more deeply connected to my femininity than ever before. Not femininity in the sense of sexuality or attracting men, but something much more meaningful. It’s showing up in my creative work, in the way I design spaces, how I write, in the details I pick up on - how I notice light, texture, beauty, emotion, and the small details that make a house feel like a home or in my photography. I’m becoming less interested in proving something to the world and more interested in creating something that feels true to me first.
Who gets to decide which version of aging for women is the right one?
I also wonder if social media has made us crave certainty more than nuance. It’s much easier to write that all women during perimenopause and beyond stop caring what people think than it is to acknowledge that every single woman arrives here carrying a completely different story. Different childhoods, different marriages, different careers, different heartbreaks, different health, different personalities, different dreams.
JUST DIFFERENT.
All of those things shape us far more than simply hitting the meno-years.
The gift of aging hasn’t been that I’ve suddenly stopped caring. Oh my god, not at all. I feel like I have more estrogen than ever (and no I’m not on HRT). I care more than ever, in fact I care deeply about people. All I want to do is create beautiful spaces that help others feel at home. I care about encouraging women to trust themselves. I want more than anything to do meaningful work that impacts the emotional well-being of others in a positive way - even more than I did when I was twenty years younger. I care about speaking honestly and from my heart without forgetting compassion. If I slip, I apologize - I don’t fly my middle finger flag and tell other women to go empower themselves or move on or get over it.
I don’t care less about people. What I care less about is performing. And those are not the same thing.
This didn’t happen because I reached a particular age or because my hormones suddenly handed me a new personality. It happened gradually, through experience, by making mistakes. It happened through time. Through losing people I loved, becoming a mother, starting businesses, failing at things, succeeding at others, moving countries, rebuilding myself more than once, and realizing around my thirties that pretending is totally exhausting so I dropped it - which happened around the same time that I relocated from the states to Germany, to a city here that is very “authentic” and unpretentious.
Moving abroad taught me that. Getting out of my comfort zone 17 years ago.
Another thing that taught me how to get over myself and live my life was having my son. In many ways, we are growing up together. I’m still the mom and lead him, but I’m growing in ways I never imagined parenting could do for me.
International relocation. Losing both of my parents in my forties. Becoming a mother. Building a business that has spanned two decades. Learning another language. Creating a home in another country. Those are the things that have shaped me.
Because here’s the thing: we all age.
Age is happening no matter what but growth is optional. Wisdom is something we earn.
If there is one thing I hope we can give women in every decade of life, it’s permission. Permission to become softer if that’s what feels true and right to you or permission to become bolder if that’s something you strive for - to bring your voice more to the stage - then go for it.
Permission to change careers, speak louder, live quieter, travel more, stay home more and travel more locally, reinvent life completely, or remain just as you are.
Lately there's been a German song floating around online (video here) that keeps making me smile: "Du bist gut genug." It’s so popular that my son’s music teacher taught them the lyrics. It simply means, You are good enough. Not because you've reached a certain age or you've entered some new "era” where you've finally become more outspoken or stopped caring what people think. Simply because you're you.
I believe that real freedom isn’t arriving at an age where you’ve finally stopped caring what everyone thinks. In fact, I hope I never stop caring altogether.
If I hurt someone, I want to know and listen to their feelings. I don’t avoid conflict, I welcome it - I want to work out a solution and find joy in the relationship again. I want to make things right if I can. If someone I love is struggling, I don't want to dismiss their feelings with, "Well, this is just who I am now. Get over it." We've begun celebrating this kind of emotional distance as strength, but I don't think strength and indifference are the same thing. Real strength is having the courage to speak your truth while still remaining open to the possibility that you've hurt someone. It's having boundaries without building walls, and conviction without losing compassion.
We can be honest without being harsh. We can have boundaries without abandoning kindness.
To me, growing older isn’t about becoming harder. It isn’t about losing compassion or celebrating the fact that we no longer have a filter. It’s about becoming more honest without losing our kindness, more authentic without losing our humanity, and more willing to set boundaries without forgetting how deeply our words can affect another person.
So if the goal is to enter an “empowered era” where I simply stop caring what anyone thinks, No, I’ll politely pass!
I’d much rather enter my wiser, compassionate era.
One where I speak honestly, but gently, where I have boundaries, but still make room for being open and kind. One where I care less about performing and more about connecting and opening a door to others. I want to grow more into my truth, myself, yes… but without becoming less considerate of the people sharing this life with me - people who have been there for me, have loved me, have proven their loyalty. I don’t want my empowered f*ck it era to end friendships that took me years to build because I was offended by something someone said or did because they simply had a bad day.
Perhaps it’s arriving at an age where you no longer need anyone else to tell you who you’re supposed to become.
No more boxes, no more categories, no more neatly packaged versions of aging and how this journey should feel, or end. Just women. Wonderfully, beautifully, endlessly different.
Keine Schubladen mehr. Du bist gut genug. Ich bin gut genug. So, wie wir sind. No more boxes. You are good enough. I am good enough. Just as we are.
Love,
Holly
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