Welcome to the State of the Jen, my now-annual blog post that I started last year because excuses are sooo easy, and regular blogging just fell to the bottom of my heap of cares.
Friends, what a time to be alive. I have thoughts about the past 12.
The Past 12: The Job
When I turned 50 last year, the most curious thing happened. It was as though my biological clock, which I never *really* felt ticking, shook off the sleep and finally made an appearance. Only instead of dreaming of children, I was dreaming of grandchildren. Specifically, one grandchild: mine.
She was born right before my 50th, but I had really begun to rethink my life from the moment I learned she was coming. And there’s something about having a single-minded purpose that will drive you to achieving that purpose. (You could even call it my “special purpose.” link trigger warning: 70s comedy)
The first thing I knew I needed to do was to stop working so hard in a profession that no longer fit my life. This sounds so easy to decide – and it was easy to decide, don’t get me wrong – but it was really hard to actually do. For one thing, I had long romanticized my job and the company I worked for, and even though it had been abundantly clear for a very long time that I was romanticizing something long dead, I’m not super smart. Not only did I have to let go of the job, I had to let go of the people at that job, and that was VERY hard. See, the mistake I had made was that I let my job become my sole identity. I was first my position, and then everything else – and usually, there wasn’t space to accommodate much else.
Fortunately, my job made it very easy for me with a series of company choices that directly contradicted the way I preferred to operate in the world, which led to the next issue: find a job? In THIS economy?
But I found one. A really, really great one, that opened up more time for my granddaughter and I…and also opened up more time to grieve, which I had also anticipated I would need.
The Past 12: The Grief
I spent the last year making big changes in my life to hold space for endings. I ended obligations that brought me more stress than fulfillment. I began to say “no” – first in a very shaky and unconvinced way, and then, with the tidal wave that menopausal assuredness brings, almost TOO loudly.
What I wanted more than anything was for it all to have been for naught. But it wasn’t.
On May 19, I lost someone who had been my world when I really needed somewhere – anywhere – to feel safe enough to anchor. My Aunt Gail was someone I always could count on to crack me up. Someone who never took life too seriously. Someone who could remind me who I was in 30 seconds or less. And she fucking died, which was the absolute worst, and still is.
I’m so grateful I restructured my life to be cleared enough to grieve the way I needed to grieve. I took so many walks around the block. Sobbed between meetings. Let myself feel all of it – the shocks of wild, raw grief, starting a new career at the same time, realizing that several people I thought were friends never were, and the inevitable questioning and looking within to ask myself what part I played in the things that went wrong, and what was beyond my control.
It felt terrible – so.terrible.so.very.terrible – in the moment, but it was so important. Because I did sit with the pain instead of stuffing it down or numbing it with distractions, I was able to face it and to learn from it. Every time I wanted to run away from it, I reminded myself that the pain was coming no matter what, and if I avoided it, it would suck even more. Sometimes, the waves are still fifty feet tall, but I’m adapting a little better to letting myself float instead of trying to swim away.
The Past 12: The Introspection
The hard work didn’t stop with change. The ensuing reconstruction efforts led me to some really tough realizations, namely that I had a lot of acceptance to face. The hardest thing to accept was that I was playing a card I had long decried as the worst thing a person could cling to – that of the victim. I had allowed myself too many months of being mad because of the actions of others – hanging onto that rage was only hurting me. Realizing the part I had played in my own life feels like a lesson I should have always known, but for some reason, my desire to peel back all the layers and face the core of…me…was activated.
There was a situation recently in which I had gifted people important to me – something that I considered to be meaningful. I heard nothing back, from almost any of them, even though I hand delivered the items and knew they were received.
For a long time, I let that hurt, and fuel a white-hot rage I felt was wholly justified. But then, I sat with myself and asked what I wanted to get out of that act. Had I done it for the thank you? Had I done it to create the perception that I was an incredible human who should win some sort of gift-giving award? When I framed it that way, the answer was so obvious…of course I hadn’t. I had done it because they had each brought me a lesson that I felt it was important to express to them in writing, along with my thanks.
It sounds silly, or did to me, but I had to ask myself what DID matter, which led me down a path of drafting my cornerstones: a list of ideals, ethics, and causes that were important to me, which eventually morphed into thinking of myself and my choices as a brand. It was the most freeing thing I could have done. Now, it feels like nothing I do has strings attached. I can give freely with no expectation of others. I don’t have to match energy, and I don’t have to shrink myself to fit my perception of the situation – that’s not my brand, man. Realizing that I don’t have to obsess about every decision – I can just run things through the brand detector – has been such a huge step for me. And it’s important to free up the headspace that ruminating took, because menopause means I can’t count on remembering shit. I need all the brain I can spare!
The Past 12: The Joys
There have been so many joyful moments in the past 12 months that I had to write about them, too. I think we tend, as humans, to document the bad way more than the good, but I certainly do. Here are a few wonderful things that happened to me since August 2025:
- Connecting more with my husband. After the year the two of us experienced, I really remembered all over again how clutch the marital vows are when they’re with a person who will stand next to you no matter what.
- Our kids and grandkid! They’re just all great and talented and really funny, and we’ve all gotten even closer in the past year.
- Ruby turning one – absolutely wild stuff
- My circle getting so much smaller
- Wholly letting go of what does not serve
- Learning chess, math, and Italian on Duolingo!
- Great, great concerts
- Sharpening my discernment skills – something important for all of us in these times of deep fakes and bots
- Volunteering again, with organizations that keep my blood pumping and heart full of hope
- Embracing whimsy everywhere I can, as often as I can, without shame
The Past 12: The Goodbyes
In retrospect, I don’t think I’ve had a more important 12 months than the first 12 of my fifties. There has been a series of shifts that have caused so much pain, uncertainty, un-centeredness…but those shifts meant my choices were simple: adapt, or wither.
I can’t wither. I know, because I tried that first.
Here, then, is a list of the things that I hugged goodbye – either literally, mentally, or emotionally – in the last 12 months. Some are silly, some are serious, all were important to me. Some I will still carry in my heart to remember, but other doors were easier to close, pat fondly, and understand that they would never again be open, at least not the same way, again.
- Skinny jeans (even if they stretch)
- My former career
- Dressing myself for anyone else’s gaze
- Obsessing about my weight
- Obsessing about logging every bite I ate
- People who weren’t that into me
- The concept of being considered an important person
- Molding to fit what anyone else wanted me to be
- My mom’s home of 33 years
- Those whose energy became less orderly
Thank you all who have been with me over these past 6.5 years of this blog and website. It means too much to put it down, so I hope to be back soon. And remember – you matter, and you are not alone. I hope you find yourself in your own State of You, and treat yourself with the kindness and gentle care you have always deserved.