We Didn’t Lose Our Dreams. We Just Group-Chatted Them to Death.
I was poking around my Gumroad account this morning ( a simple way to host all the resource guides I write ) —curious about what actually is working when I stumbled across a statistic that made me choke on my coffee.
Out of every digital resource, guide, and PDF I have ever thrown into the internet void, my absolute number-one bestseller is a little guide called
More than 400 people have downloaded it.
That stopped me cold. Because let’s be honest: 400 women didn’t download a PDF because they suddenly forgot how to be confident. They downloaded it because after six or seven decades on this planet, they realized they’ve been running an absolute masterclass in ignoring their own intuition.
For most of our lives, we became Olympic-level athletes at responding to what everyone else needed. Family, careers, husbands, aging parents, kids, grandkids, and the endless crushing void of “domestic responsibility” trained us to keep our eyes glued outward. We were the ultimate project managers of everyone else’s existence. We noticed who needed feeding, who needed therapy, and what bill was due next. We did it so automatically that we didn’t even realize we hadn’t consulted ourselves on a single decision since the Clinton administration.
Our internal voice didn’t pack up and leave. We just started treating it like a telemarketer.
I know this because I used to be the CEO of that exact lifestyle. I used to wake up, and before my feet even hit the floor, my brain was already compiling a to-do list based entirely on other people’s issues. My attention belonged to my obligations before I even had a chance to put the kettle on. Heck, even into my early retirement years, that rusty machinery was still humming along in the background. I had spent fifty years living in “reaction mode” that I genuinely forgot there was another option on the menu.
These days? My mornings look a little less like a fire drill and a lot more like a luxury.
I wake up and actually ask myself what I want to do. Sometimes I want to paint. Sometimes I want to go for a walk, write, or just sit outside with my coffee and judge the neighbors’ landscaping choices. But underneath all of that is the one question that flipped the script on my entire existence:
How can I be of service to my soul today?
I know, I know—it sounds a little woo-woo. But contrast that with “Who is going to be inconvenienced if I don’t do this thing today?” and it’s a total paradigm shift.
This is exactly why retirement can feel like a psychological horror movie for women of our generation. We spent decades being aggressively needed. Then, suddenly, the universe rolls out the red carpet, throws its hands up, and says, “Yay! Now it’s your turn!”
And we just stand there, blinking in the sunlight, terrified.
Our dreams are still in there, but they’ve been buried under a mountain of outside opinions, demands, and casserole dishes. When the sudden urge to paint bubbles up, or that old book idea resurfaces, or we randomly decide we want to pack a bag and travel solo to Italy, we freeze. Not because we don’t want it, but because we’ve spent a lifetime treating our own desires as “indulgent,” “selfish,” or highly suspicious. We’ve forgotten how to trust a thought simply because it came out of our own heads.
Which brings me back to those 400 downloads.
Those women aren’t looking for a guru to tell them who to become next. They’re sixty-something years old; they don’t need a lecture. They’re just trying to remember how to stop gaslighting themselves. They are trying to hear that quiet, internal voice that has been drowned out by decades of PTA meetings, corporate nonsense, and family logistics, and finally give it some damn authority.
Reclaiming your life at this stage doesn’t require a massive manifestation board or a 10-step courage routine. It starts way earlier.
It starts the moment you hear yourself want something, drop the guilt, and decide that your own voice gets a casting vote in what happens next.
That has been the absolute best part of my retirement. I am officially out of the business of asking what the world requires of me before breakfast. I’m asking what my soul wants. And after a lifetime of listening to everyone else’s noise, turning the volume up on my own voice feels less like an indulgence and a lot more like finally coming home.
Ready to stop asking for permission?
If you’re tired of treating your own intuition like a spam caller, it’s time to change the settings. Grab your copy of Building Trust with Yourself today, and let’s start giving your own voice the casting vote it deserves. (Don’t worry, it’s a PDF, not a 10-step lecture).