Dear Bluma: I Want a Life of My Own Again
Dear Bluma,
Some days, I fantasize about checking into a cute hotel under a fake name and sleeping for a week. I’m 49, perimenopausal (hi, night sweats), parenting a senior in high school, managing my mother’s appointments, and holding everything together at work. I used to be creative and fun. Now I’m a walking to-do list with heartburn. I just want my life to feel like it’s mine again without blowing it up. Is it selfish to want a break? How do I get my spark back without abandoning everyone who needs me?
— Tired, Not Done
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Dear Tired, Not Done,
You’re not imagining it. The hormonal tide is shifting under your feet while the world still expects you to walk as if the ground is steady. Perimenopause rewires the instrument while you’re still trying to play the song. And when you add teenagers, aging parents, workplaces that worship productivity, and a culture that hands women endless emotional carrying baskets, it’s no wonder you’re fantasizing about a secret hotel soft enough to disappear into.
Of course you want a break! It’s biological. It’s psychological. It’s spiritual. It’s what happens when a woman’s internal season changes faster than her external responsibilities do.
Your spark is clearly just buried under everyone else’s needs. Let’s unearth it with a few recalibrations that actually work in the real world, not the fantasy one where you suddenly have twelve free hours and a quiet brain.
Five Recalibrations for the Midlife Overfilled Life
1. The “Two-Burner Rule” Reset
Imagine yourself as a stove with four burners: work, family, health, creativity.
Perimenopause forces one truth: you can only keep two burners on high at once.
Pick your two for each week.
The rest stay on low.
This is energy triage.
2. Replace “Self-Care” with “Energy Leaks”
Instead of asking, “How do I care for myself?” ask,
“Where is my life leaking energy?”
Often it’s micro-leaks: answering every text immediately, saying yes to emotional labor at work, over-managing a nearly-grown teen, rescheduling your own needs around everyone else.
Seal one leak per week. Watch capacity return.
3. The Hormonal Permission Slip
Write this down:
“My body is allowed to have new terms and conditions.”
Then name one non-negotiable your body is requesting.
Earlier evenings. Less noise. More protein. A cooling pillow. Silence before people.
When hormones shift, lifestyle must shift. You must update the operating system.
4. Make Creativity Stupidly Tiny
Don’t try to “get your creativity back.” That’s too big.
Instead, make it laughably small.
One sentence in a notebook.
One photo of something beautiful.
One song you play for yourself in the car before you go inside.
Creativity returns when the bar is low enough to step over.
5. The 90-Second Disappearance
Since you can’t yet check into that lovely hotel under the name Vivienne Moonshadow, give yourself micro-escapes:
Close your eyes for 90 seconds and imagine the room you’d stay in.
Your nervous system doesn’t need the whole week.
It needs the symbolism of vanishing and reappearing on your own terms.
Your spark is waiting for you.
Let’s be clear: you’ve got to fit yourself back into your own life.
Wanting to feel alive again doesn’t cancel your love for the people who need you. It simply means that you, too, belong on your list of people worth caring for.
And for the record, I fully support the hotel escape if you ever truly need it. A woman deserves a room with clean sheets, quiet air, and no one calling her name. Should you choose to slip away for a night of restorative vanishing, here are a few aliases for your guest registry: Ruby Restwell, Lola No-Thanks, Trixie Timeout, or Vera Vanished.
Pack light, breathe deeply, and go guiltless. Your secret is safe with me.
Bluma
