Uncomfortable and Unbothered
The Midlife Bravery They Forgot to Warn Us About
Let’s get one thing straight: I didn’t get comfortable. I got brave. There’s a difference.
Since 2020, my word of the year has been unbothered, not because I float through life on some woo-woo cloud of Zen, but because I finally stopped contorting myself to fit inside everyone else’s comfort zone. Comfort is overrated. You know what’s underrated? Being uncomfortable and unbothered at the same damn time.
It started when I took a job that scared the hell out of me. One that came with an IPO, a global team in a function I’d never led, and the daily juggling act of raising three boys, step-moming four more with my man who lives in Australia (because of course he does), and trying not to lose myself in the process.
With that job came all the things: the pressure, the stretch, the holy-shit-am-I-actually-doing-this moments.
And then, about eight months in, came the wave pool.
Picture this: the entire company on a cruise - sun setting, cocktails flowing, coworkers laughing nearby. A small crew of us had flirted with the idea of giving it a go, but most chickened out at the last minute. Not me. I was in. Oldest on the team, most senior in title - and clearly the one with the least amount of self-preservation instinct.
I’m in full Beyoncé mode - hair windblown, hips swaying, soaking in joy like it’s my full-time job. Until suddenly, a rogue wave smacks me with the precision of a petty ex and boom: my bathing suit top decides it’s done. Just…gone.
Yes, my top. And yes, my boob. Fully visible. To actual colleagues. Not just the ones I’ve shared coffee chats and calendar invites with (which was mortifying enough), but to strangers just trying to enjoy the wave pool - and God help me, to children who now have a very different understanding of what qualifies as poolside entertainment.
Thankfully, it was a flash. A blink-and-you-miss-it moment. But make no mistake: that boob was out. Like, front and center. Like, headlining the cruise.
I gasped. I laughed. I yanked the damn thing back into place like my life depended on it. Then I scanned the crowd, triple-checked there was no photographic evidence, and said to my team, “Sure, we can talk about this… just maybe not with HR. Or, you know, my boss.”
Did I spiral? Nope. Mortified? Of course. But I didn’t crumble. I didn’t run. I adjusted, exhaled, carried on - and added that suit to my personal burn list. Because I’ve survived worse than a runaway boob.
And before you ask - no, it’s not my only embarrassing work story. Not even close. But top of the list? Easily.
That one? That’s bothness as bravery. Awkward and amazing. Holy shit and hell yes.
Since writing The Real Girls Guide to Over 55, I’ve been asked if I’m comfortable talking about sex, vibrators, late-in-life orgasms.
No, I’m not “comfortable.” I’m done being silent. And that’s the whole point.
Do I worry what my grown sons might think? Sometimes. But all up, all in, I’ve got seven humans I’d go to war for. Truth stands, even the messy, sexy, real stuff. And honestly, I worry more about the women who still think they’re broken because they’re 56 and just now figuring out what they want in bed. Or the ones who feel irrelevant because they chose not to have kids, or couldn’t.
Make no mistake:
✴ You can be tired and turned on.
✴ Angry and full of grace.
✴ Nurturing and badass.
✴ Grieving and rising.
✴ Uncomfortable and unbothered - and that’s where the real power lives.
I see it in every woman who DM’s me to say, “No one ever told me about this sex hormone chart.”
In every friend who says, “I thought I was the only one still Googling ‘Is this menopause or a stroke?’”
In the rage of women in their 30s, the raw honesty of women in their 80s, and the fire in the rest of us right here, mid-fucking-life, claiming what we should’ve never had to apologize for in the first place.
And when I need a reminder, I grab my eighth copy of You Are a Badass by Jen Sincero; the others? All loaned out, marked up, highlighted, and dog-eared like sacred texts. This one’s my fresh start, ordered three months ago when I finally said yes to writing the damn book. And every time I flip through those pages, I remember exactly why I’m doing this:
✽ To say the shit out loud.
✽ To stop shrinking.
✽ To light a damn path for the next woman crawling through the dark.
This isn’t about being polished.
It’s about being real, brave, loud, raw, and finally... unbothered as hell.
If any part of that hit you in the gut, subscribe now - before someone tells you to “age gracefully” again, and because we’re done whispering, disappearing, and pretending comfortable is the goal
#Parenting #Culture #HealthandWellness #Humor #PersonalGrowth #RealGirlsGuide
We’ve earned every wrinkle. Might as well make more laugh lines together.
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