Being Her Now: Stepping Away from Scarcity in Midlife
Scarcity was something I grew up with. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say the feeling of scarcity. Arguably, in many ways, we had enough. I never went hungry, my sister and I were always clothed reasonably well, the lights stayed on, and although money was tight, somehow my parents managed.
However, I was painfully aware of what we didn’t have.
We lived on the wrong side of Catford in South East London. My mother worked as a cleaner at the primary school I attended, and my father worked as a laborer renovating houses.
Weekends weren’t joyful. My dad was always in the local pub spending money that was already in short supply. My mum would spend her time taking care of the household chores. On Saturdays, she’d clean from top to bottom in somewhat of a frenzied state, then my dad would come home drunk and eat a late lunch that my mum had already prepared for him. Afterwards, he’d go to bed to sleep off some of the booze, before waking up and returning to the pub once more.
Sometimes we’d go swimming or to the local park but rarely further afield than that. We didn’t have a car, and my mum didn’t drive anyway, so we usually walked everywhere or got the bus.
Even though I can only remember a handful of times when lack of money was explicitly mentioned, there was an ever-present sense of financial struggle. Worn out shoes were repaired not replaced. Clothes were often sourced from jumble sales. I knew not to ask for expensive items and I never mentioned non-compulsory school trips. We didn’t take family vacations except for a couple of summers when we spent a week or two at my aunt’s seaside house in Ramsgate. Birthday parties weren’t a thing, and gift giving was usually reserved for Christmas.
By contrast, our kitchen was stocked full. Mostly with convenience food. Packets of biscuits, boxes of cakes, and tins of soup and beans. My mother would often buy more of what we didn’t need until eventually some of the tins would go past their best-before date and have to be thrown away. Looking back, this was likely her own scarcity response to our financial situation. It didn’t quite make sense but it probably afforded her some degree of comfort to know that even if it felt like everything else was unraveling, the cupboards weren’t completely bare.
I absorbed behaviors from both my parents. In my late teens through to my early thirties I mimicked much of my dad’s binge drinking cycle, even though it was something I detested as a child. I started smoking Marlboro cigarettes, despite having spent years hating the stench that came from my dad’s smoking. Like my mum, I didn’t handle stress well but I thought that if my house was sparkling and visitor ready at all times I could kid myself that I was in control of my life.
In my mid-thirties, after being hospitalized with a severe bout of pancreatitis, I started to reevaluate how I was living.
I was divorced, in debt, and wondering why checking all the “right” boxes had only served to bring me to a point where I felt disconnected from who I was and dissatisfied with how I spent my days. I didn’t exactly know what it was that I wanted, but I knew it wasn’t more of what I already had. I felt as though I was simply existing in each day, never truly living.
The only thing I was sure of was that if I continued along the same path, I’d end up getting the same results.
Determined to change things, I gave notice on my rented apartment and moved back in with my parents. I paid off my debt and started saving. Then, I took myself to India for six months to try and remember who I was before the world had told me who I was supposed to be. (Thank you, Charles Bukowski).
It was a journey of reclamation, but also one of introduction. I was exploring a version of myself I’d never been before. I was meeting the woman I might still become.
It was early 2010 and we didn’t yet have Instagram to showcase our supposedly perfect lives or beautifully filter our vulnerable moments. It was just as well. My journey was messy and imperfect. Solo travel was exhilarating but also exhausting. I was mostly hot, tired, and uncertain. And in my many moments of doubt, I often wondered what exactly it was that I was moving towards or what awaited me when I finally returned home. I had no job and no home of my own to go back to. But whenever I hesitated and questioned which way was next, I knew with absolute clarity that it wasn’t in the direction of the life I’d already lived. “Not that” was a frequent thought in my mind.
It’s fair to say that it was a pivotal time. India acted as a benchmark for everything that would come afterwards. When I found myself facing challenges or feeling fearful about a new venture, I’d remind myself of what I’d already achieved and it gave me the courage to continue.
The coming years saw me return to London, change my name by deed poll, fall in love, get married again, and move to NYC to begin two businesses. This is, of course, a highlight reel. There were plenty of difficult times in and around the positive parts. But life was generally pretty good.
I’d created some big changes in my life in a relatively short space of time. When things inevitably settled down, I was grateful for the chance to have some steadiness and consistency. A few years passed by, and somewhere along the way, I found myself once again stuck in a bit of a rut. I loved my new life but I realized I’d lost a bit of the spark that had brought me to it. I’d got to a certain point and then doubted my ability to go further.
I was happy in my marriage and working for myself was wonderful in many ways. I was a writer and a coach and I was working with midlife women to help them lead fulfilling and empowered lives. I’d also started a pet sitting business which I adored. With both businesses I had flexibility and freedom. I got to be creative and innovative. I called the shots and I didn’t have to deal with office politics or CEOs with outlandish egos. But I wasn’t making the money I needed to, and I was feeling the pressure financially.
Despite all the change I’d created in my life, I was still hanging on to my scarcity story. The story that had started in childhood and stubbornly stuck. Even when I’d had higher paying jobs or a decent amount of savings, just below the surface was a belief that I wasn’t good enough. I was still the girl from the wrong side of town who longingly looked at the lives of other people for whom money seemed to flow with much more ease.
I convinced myself, with both my businesses, that I couldn’t charge what I really needed to because nobody would pay me that much. I also created another story about the evils of capitalism and how lowering my prices was an act of rebellion against a system that made so much inaccessible to so many.
While capitalism may indeed have its flaws, it’s untrue to say that’s all that was keeping me from financially flourishing. I simply didn’t believe I deserved to. I hadn’t grown up in an environment that modeled financial security and I hadn’t done any inner work since to change my deep rooted beliefs about what I was deserving of, or capable of.
Once again I found myself at a place where I realized that the same behavior was simply going to yield the same results. It was time to create more change.
This time I didn’t leave my life and jet off to another country. I knew I needed to go deeper, not further.
I joined a membership club, Hello 7, run by Rachel Rodgers, that teaches women how to build wealth. I learned business strategy and I got money mindset coaching. It was the first time I’d ever taken such a direct approach to working through old fears and beliefs. Slowly but surely, it started to pay off.
My life didn’t change overnight and neither did my bank account. But I did begin to chip away at some of the fundamental beliefs that I’d unwittingly reinforced over the years. I got curious about what I believed to be true, and why. I connected with other women who were also on a similar path and we shared stories and brainstormed solutions. It was another pivotal time.
One year and one craniotomy later, I left Hello 7 to focus on recovering from a brain tumor and regaining my health. After I was through the very hardest part of the healing process, I turned my attention back to my main business of working with midlife women and continued to implement what I’d learned.
Even though I continued to deal with symptoms from the hemangioblastoma (and still do) I was determined to really move forward in 2023 and show up for what I wanted like never before.
I chose two guiding words for the year. Emerge and Home.
Emerge was really about connecting with people in a more intentional way. I’m a happy introvert but sometimes our comfort zones can feel more like cages if we never explore what’s beyond their edges. Rather than hide behind my introvert tendencies, I wanted to emerge into new opportunities and possibilities. I was also ready to emerge from the darkest parts of the sickness I’d been dealing with.
Home was about finally finding my very own sanctuary. Having spent years moving around from rental to rental, I was ready to claim my own space where I felt safe and settled. Where I could root down and feel grounded. Where I could enjoy a sense of lasting peace. It had been my dream for a long, long time but I’d been too scared to move towards it.
As I write, we’re in the fifth month of 2023 and so far my guiding words have been working out well. I’ve been emerging from my introvert shell, attending more in-person events and making more connections. My business has become more stable as a result and I’m seeing a return on my investment.
My husband and I have continued saving towards a deposit for our home. We’ve taken financial advice and it feels as though we have a solid goal to work towards, rather than a flimsy dream.
But something I recently realized was that, despite being closer to achieving my goals than ever before, I was slipping back into my scarcity story.
One of the things I learned from Rachel Rodgers is the concept of Being Her Now.
That means you nail down the vision of the woman you want to be, and the life she leads, and then you begin, however possible, to Be Her Now. You start where you are and you get creative by using what’s at your disposal.
One of the ways I’d begun to Be Her Now in 2021 was to found a quiet place in nature that I was able to rent from the owner at weekends. It wasn’t quite my very own sanctuary, but when I was there it felt as though it could be. I was intentionally putting myself in an environment that I ultimately wanted to be in.
But, as our savings slowly built up, I stopped taking the weekend trips upstate. I told myself that it was money best saved, not spent.
I convinced myself that I had to bide my time and focus on the future. Even though it was making me anxious and miserable to spend weekends in the noisy city when I longed for peace and quiet in nature.
It wasn’t until a few days ago that I suddenly realized I’d stopped Being Her Now, as far as my home dream was concerned.
Since then, I’ve taken steps to rectify that so I can be out of the city when I have free weekends. I’m not going to allow fear to tell me that doing so will take me further away from the life I want. I’m choosing to believe instead that it’s actually bringing me closer.
This is a practice in trust. In faith. In betting on myself and what I have the ability to make happen. There’s always something to be afraid of. But there’s also always something to be believe in.
Like most journeys of healing and reclamation, changing our patterns and beliefs and the way we respond to the world around us isn’t a one time thing. It’s a series of daily decisions that require our courage and commitment.
Ultimately, it’s up to each of us to determine what scares us more. Moving towards the life we want, or staying stuck in the life we know we definitely don’t.
I’m taking deep breaths and renewing my vow to myself that I’ll keep going along this path of mine until my dream becomes a reality. Stumbles and setbacks are inevitable and I’m sure my scarcity story will rear it’s head many more times. But I believe there’s a future me, sitting in a peaceful garden in front of her very own home, turning her face to the warmth of the sun as she smiles in joy and gratitude. I’m being her now in as many ways as I’m able, and I can’t wait to fully become her.
If you’d like more support on your midlife journey, take a look at my audio course Aging Courageously: A Guide to Goal Setting and Purposeful Living. You’ll reframe your fears about aging and feel inspired to approach midlife and beyond with renewed intention and optimism.