update on what´s going on

Turning 50 this summer has shifted something deep inside me. I know I haven’t posted much here lately, but this milestone has cracked me open in ways I didn’t expect. For the first time, I feel an undeniable authority over my own life — a fierce determination to put myself, my own desires and needs, at the center, unapologetically.

All my life, I played the caretaker. I was always the youngest — the good girl, the attentive listener, the one pouring out care for everyone else. But now, at this threshold, it’s as if I’ve stepped into my own power. Finally, it’s my turn. My birthright, really, to be the one who is nurtured, who claims space and asks for the things she truly wants.

I don’t write about my marriage because my husband treasures his privacy, and I honor that. A lot of you know who I am—I’ve never hidden my identity for long once trust was built. So, by writing about my marriage I would also write about him. He doesnt want that and I accept that.

But there’s still so much I can share about my journey, the raw edges and the unexpected turns.

Lately, my understanding of female-led relationships, of what it means to truly lead, has changed. The urge to help, to fix, to rescue people feels almost quiet these days. I’m growing out of that calling. 

It’s not that I no longer see the best in people—I do—but I’ve lost patience for wasting energy pulling someone toward their own potential when they're unwilling to take a single step. I used to chase everyone else’s growth. Now, for the first time, I’m simply living my own.

My life feels full — career, friends, a sense of acceptance in my own skin. 

And yet, this journey has surprised me, especially in my relationships. I’m learning, that I can pour love into a man, but I cannot do his spiritual and emotional work. That heavy work belongs only to him.

And sometimes they do and sometimes they don't, lol.

When it happens though, it is beautiful. A few weeks ago, I had an experience that cracked me open even more. I have a German friend, a reader here on my blog, and for years I’ve been the dominant one in our dynamic. I helped him, steadied him, offered advice and direction. But then, when my own life spiraled with drama and grief, he called me. I couldn’t hide how broken I felt. I cried, raw and honest, while he listened on the other end.

Then, in a heartbeat, everything changed. He stepped up in a way that stunned me — calm, steady, confident. He caught me, emotionally, like a safety net, saying exactly what I needed, guiding me gently and firmly through my sadness. In those moments, it was as if his quiet power unfurled; he became my guide, my anchor. I felt deeply seen and safe. For a moment, I melted into his strength, and I realized: that power had always been there, waiting for the moment it was needed.

He is a wonderful person and I am glad he is in my life. (I haven't spoken with him since then, I feel a bit vulnerable now around him, but if you are reading this, my friend: thank you!)

Looking back on former relationships,  on the man who ghosted me, I can recognize how helpless I once felt trying to carry others through their pain. It doesn’t work. You cannot save someone who isn’t ready. We each have to walk through our darkness at our own pace.

I’m not sure where all of this is leading me or what it means for this blog. But I do know this: I am living raw and real, right at the pulse of my own life.