20th April was my 15th wedding anniversary.
21st April was my husband’s 65th birthday.
22nd April marks 20 years since my dad passed.
A strange mixed bag of emotions this week… as it is every year.
It’s had me thinking a lot about time.
My husband should have been able to retire this year, but the rules changed, and now he has two more years to go. As retirement gets closer, he’s starting to wonder what he would even do with his time.
And yet, when I speak to people who have retired, they often say the same thing —
they don’t know how they ever found the time to work.
But when you look closer… they’re busy being the village.
Helping with grandchildren. Supporting family. Meeting friends.
Living.
Not squeezing life in around work… but living their life fully.
And it makes me wonder how many of us are still waiting.
Waiting for the right time.
Waiting for less stress.
Waiting for “one day”.
My dad was only 72 when he died.
He believed in “three score years and ten”, so in many ways, he felt he had done well to reach his 70s.
But he only had 8 years of retirement… and because of his health, he didn’t get to do the things he and my mum had planned. Travel. Enjoy life differently.
And that stays with me.
April is both Stress Awareness Month and Autism Acceptance Month.
And with an informal AuDHD diagnosis myself, and both formal and informal diagnoses in my family, I sometimes find myself looking back…
Wondering who had what.
Wondering how different things might have been if they had known.
But the truth is — it couldn’t have been any different.
Because it wasn’t.
What it does give us though…
is a place to learn from.
A place to gently ask:
- How can I do things differently now?
- Whose voice am I carrying in my head?
- Is it helpful… or unhelpful?
- Is it even true?
And… whose voice could I listen to instead?
Because so much of who we became was shaped by a simple, unconscious question:
Who do I need to be to feel safe, loved, and included?
And we became that person.
And that makes sense.
But now… things may be different.
If you are safe now (and if you’re not, please reach out for support), there is an opportunity to begin softening those old voices.
Research shows that just one safe, loving, reliable person can balance out adverse childhood experiences.
So maybe this is a moment to remember…
Who was that person for you?
And what would they be saying to you now?
Would they be reminding you how loved you are?
How worthy?
How enough?
This week has reminded me of something I come back to again and again:
Time passes.
“This too shall pass” is one of my favourite sayings…
But not if we’re holding onto it.
Not if we’re replaying it.
Not if we’re still listening to voices that were never truly ours.
So maybe the invitation this week is simple:
To notice what you’re carrying…
And gently begin to put some of it down.
Because I see you.
Full of life.
Full of love.
Full of potential.
And I don’t want you to wait until retirement to start living.
Because when this moment passes — as it will —
how do you want to look back?
Did it take everything from you?
Or…
Did it help you learn, grow, survive…
and maybe even begin to thrive?