I don’t know if it’s hitting your fifties, surviving the chaos of your forties, or just waking up one day and thinking, “You know what? I’m done with the nonsense,”—but something shifts.
And that something?
It’s freaking fan-tabulous.
(Making up words is a hobby, what can I say)
It’s like a quiet internal revolution, where you start peeling back the layers of who you thought you had to be… and finally start becoming who you truly are.
This video was sparked by a sort of internal midlife decluttering of habits, mindsets, expectations, and frankly, energy-sucking nonsense.
Here are 7 things I’ve happily ditched after 50—maybe they’ll inspire you to ditch the things that no longer serve you (or let’s face it… never did).
1. Saying Yes When I Mean No
I used to bend, stretch, and shapeshift to avoid disappointing anyone. My automatic response was “Sure!” even when every cell in my body was screaming, “Please don’t.”
Now? I honor the pause. I check in with myself first.
And if the answer is no? That’s exactly what I say.
Boundaries aren’t walls.
They’re doors I close to protect my peace.
And… a little bit of “white space” goes a long way.
2. Chasing Hustle Culture
If hustle were a sport, I’d have been MVP for years. I equated being exhausted with being successful, and productivity became a personality trait.
But I’ve learned that doing more isn’t the same as doing what matters.
I want work that feels aligned. Money that feels ethical. Rest that isn’t earned but deserved.
Hustle culture doesn’t belong in my life.
My life is all about alignment.
3. Pretending I’m OK When I’m Not
Raise your hand if “I’m fine” has ever been your go-to line (even when you were definitely not fine). 🙋♀️
Midlife has taught me the power of honesty—with myself and the people I trust.
I no longer see vulnerability as weakness.
It’s connection.
It’s courage.
If I’m struggling, I say so. If I need support, I ask for it.
Pretending is exhausting.
And I’m not here for performative resilience.
4. Explaining Myself or Justifying Things
Here’s a sentence I’ve stopped using: “I hope that makes sense.”
I don’t owe anyone a PowerPoint presentation on my choices, dreams, boundaries, or emotions.
When I change my mind, say no, or follow a different path—it’s not up for debate.
Letting go of the need to be understood by everyone? That’s freedom.
Also, not needing to understand everyone is freedom, too.
When in doubt, be kind and move on.
5. Believing Money Is “Hard”
This one was deep.
I picked up so many stories—early and often—that money was complicated, stressful, or only for certain kinds of people.
Or that you had to “work hard” to earn a good living.
And for a long time, I believed them.
But now I see how those beliefs were never mine.
They were inherited, absorbed, and unchallenged.
AND… science supports that, thanks to epigenetics.
Money isn’t hard.
It’s layered, yes—but I’m learning to meet it with curiosity instead of shame.
To see it as a tool, not a verdict.
Trust that I can create, keep, and grow it without sacrificing my peace or values.
6. Comparing Myself to Others
The scroll spiral is real.
And nothing kills joy faster than stacking your life against someone else’s highlight reel.
Comparison doesn’t give you information—it gives you amnesia.
You forget your magic. Your path. Your timing.
These days, I’ve unfollowed the noise and come back home to myself.
I remind myself daily: your lane is sacred. Stay in it. Build there.
7. Hiding Any Part of Who I Am
There was a time when I toned myself down—my opinions, my silliness, my ambition—so I wouldn’t be “too much.”
Too loud. Too sensitive. Too bold. Too ambitious.
Now?
Nope. Not gonna happen.
I’m done editing myself to make other people more comfortable.
Midlife has stripped away the performance. What’s left is someone real, whole, and finally… fully seen—even if it’s just by myself.
If you’re in this chapter, too—where clarity meets courage—know you’re not alone.
This isn’t about perfection or having it all figured out. It’s about choosing yourself.
Again and again.
There’s something radical about a woman in midlife who owns her voice, value, and joy without apology.
She doesn’t ask for permission.
She writes the next chapter on her own damn terms.
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