Fear of Becoming Irrelevant.

I don't think we talk enough about the fear of becoming irrelevant.

Especially in midlife.

I remember when my boys got an apartment together.

They were excited.

I secretly cried for months.

My husband was looking forward to it being just us.

I felt like the world was ending…

and I was about to slide into a black hole.

Of course I wanted them to grow up.

Of course I wanted them to become independent.

Of course, I knew this was the whole damn point of raising them. 😂

But nothing prepared me for how heartbreaking it was when they actually left.

For so many years, I was needed.

Mom.

Business owner.

Boss.

Teacher.

Problem solver.

People needed something from me ALL. THE. TIME.

And then, almost one by one, those identities started disappearing.

The business I'd poured myself into for a decade was gone during COVID.

I built again, then eventually sold that chapter to an ambitious client ready to make it her own.

Somewhere in there, the boys grew up and moved out.

And with them went so much of the noise.

Friends.

Messes.

Laundry.

Random shoes everywhere.

Suddenly, there was all this time.

…and residual grief.

And underneath that grief was a question I didn't really want to admit I was asking:

If nobody needs me anymore… do I still matter?

Oof.

I think that's one of the quieter fears of midlife.

Not just getting older.

Becoming irrelevant.

The kids don't need us in the same way.

Menopause hits.

Our careers change.

Our bodies change.

Relationships shift.

Roles we've held for decades start falling away.

And we're left standing there thinking…

Well, who the hell am I now?

I'm beginning to believe maybe this season isn't asking us to become irrelevant at all.

Maybe it's asking us to stop measuring our relevance by how useful we are to everyone else.

Maybe the empty space isn't proof that our best years are behind us.

Maybe it's room.

Room to remember who we were before everybody needed us.

Room to discover who we've become.

And maybe even room to ask:

What do I want now?

I'm still answering that one.

But for the first time, I'm not afraid of the question.

Barefoot friends… have you ever felt this?

That strange little fear that as everyone else needs you less, you somehow matter less too? ❤️

Hugs 🤗

PS: Our three boys live less than 12 minutes away. (Yes, I timed it. 😂)

We still see or talk to them almost every day. I did NOT, in fact, slide into a black hole.

But it took me months to find my footing in this new chapter.

And maybe that's part of what Back to Barefoot has become for me, too—finding my way back to purpose when the old versions of it no longer fit.

Also… GRANDKIDS. 😍

Turns out, there is some pretty great stuff on this side of the black hole. 😂