Twice a year, I feel a soft, sad ache—a mix of nostalgia and the bittersweet act of saying goodbye.
These moments arrive like clockwork, I’ve come to realize: once at the end of the year and again around my summer birthday.
Each marks the closing of one chapter and the start of another, accompanied by farewells and a touch of mourning. Yet, there’s also a quiet excitement for what’s to come. What will the next year bring? Although, truthfully, the years seem to fly by faster now.
In the past, milestones like New Year’s Eve and my birthday were occasions for celebration. These days, they’re accompanied by a nostalgic sense of longing. This week, another transition came into sharp focus: my menstrual cycle. When it returned after a two-month absence, I noted it in my calendar and realized my cycles were ending.
For years, I longed for this moment—no more periods. Living with endometriosis, my menstruation was a recurring nightmare, especially in my younger years. I endured countless painkillers, extended birth control use to avoid bleeding, and years of infertility struggles and hormone treatments, all in hopes of a pregnancy that never came, except for the miraculous gift of Finn and the heartbreak of a miscarriage.
So, while I’m profoundly relieved that this chapter is nearly over—and I am “only” 49—I can’t ignore the pang of nostalgia that accompanies it. I am, after all, a compassionate person. I feel things fully, notice the shifts and insist on giving myself the space to reflect. I’d otherwise risk rushing past these emotions in a world that moves so quickly.
This moment of reflection brings a sense of mourning. I mourn the close of a difficult phase, yes, but I also mourn the realization that the child I once carried in my heart and dreamed of will never come. And so, I pause. I honor the weight of these emotions while stepping forward into the unknown, carrying the lessons and love of the past with me.
What surprises me is that when I talk to other women about this, they all confirm that it brings a sense of grief. Saying goodbye to a phase in your life naturally comes with a certain kind of mourning. Yet, it’s something we don’t talk about often.
Of course, this doesn’t mean that the new phase won’t be fantastic, filled with beautiful moments and personal growth. But taking a moment to reflect on what has been seems to be part of the acceptance process, doesn’t it?
I’m curious to hear what you think and whether you experience similar emotions.
Love,
Dee
