It's my Birthday

I am 41 today, and as I reflect on this milestone, I find myself genuinely appreciating the experience of being in my 40s. This decade has brought with it a newfound sense of confidence that I cherish deeply. There is an undeniable relief that washes over you once you have navigated through all the societal expectations and life milestones that often fill the busy years of your 20s and 30s—such as completing university, establishing a career, entering into marriage, purchasing a home, and raising children. These responsibilities and pursuits can consume so much of our time and energy, and before you realize it, you find yourself in your forties or even fifties, especially if you chose to have children later in life.

In this phase of life, it becomes possible to take a moment to breathe, to pause, and to ask the pivotal question—

What do I truly want?

What am I going to do with the rest of this one precious life that I have been given?

If we are fortunate, we may only be halfway through our journey. This realisation prompts us to ponder what our second act will look like. What adventures and challenges await us as we step into this new chapter of our lives?

This past year has been a period of deep reflection for me as I grapple with these significant questions. I transitioned from being in full-time employment to embracing the uncertainties and freedoms that come with self-employment once again.

In September of last year, I made the difficult decision to leave my full-time job. The demands of my family life, particularly with my eldest child, Alex, undergoing an Autism assessment, made it increasingly clear that maintaining a traditional job was no longer feasible. Alex has been facing severe mental health challenges, which have prevented him from attending school since 2004. The complexity of his situation has required my constant attention and support.

I had intended to return to my self-employed business, a venture I had previously found fulfilling and rewarding, but the circumstances surrounding Alex’s needs made that plan impractical. Anyone who has experience with disabilities or who cares for someone with such challenges understands that the process of obtaining a diagnosis and securing the necessary support and benefits can feel like a full-time job in itself. This reality is compounded by the time and emotional energy required to provide care. The emotional toll of caring for a child with Autism is profound, affecting not just the individual but the entire family unit.

Simple family activities, such as outings, vacations, or even shared meals, can become daunting tasks. Often, these challenges lead us to forgo such experiences altogether, and with that comes a heavy burden of guilt regarding how this impacts Alex's younger siblings. Thankfully, Alex is not physically aggressive, but he often reacts with distress and frustration over the smallest of provocations from them, creating a tense atmosphere at home.

After months of navigating through a mountain of paperwork, we have recently learned that we qualify for disability benefits, which has provided some relief to our financial situation. However, I am still in the midst of advocating with our local authority to secure appropriate educational resources for Alex, and I remain hopeful that we will reach a resolution this autumn.

All of this leads me to a realisation I never anticipated—that I would find myself in the role of a full-time caregiver. Life has a way of unfolding in unexpected directions, often diverging from our carefully laid plans. There are elements of our lives that we can control, while others remain stubbornly outside our influence. It may be a cliché, but with age comes wisdom, and I have learned not to dwell on the trivial matters that once consumed my thoughts. Most of the things we worry about never actually materialise. I do not express this lightly; during my late teens and twenties, I struggled with anxiety. It may seem old-fashioned to suggest, but I believe that genetics plays a role in our predisposition to worry. My grandfather was a chronic worrier, and my mother has become increasingly anxious as she has aged. I am hopeful that I am moving in the opposite direction, having faced challenging times and emerging stronger and more resilient.

As I stand at this juncture in my life, I feel a profound sense of gratitude for where I am today. I am thankful that over the past year, I have managed to reconnect with my creative side, which had been overshadowed by the demands of caregiving and daily life. The future remains uncertain, but I am optimistic that our home life will gradually stabilise now that we are receiving some much-needed assistance. As always, I have a desire to write more, to express my thoughts and experiences in a way that might resonate with others.

At this moment, I find myself content, embracing the complexities and joys of life as they come.

Thank you for reading