Heather Mills Photography and guest contributor, Tanya Powell, owner of BWell Coaching, co-host of the Double Take podcast, and writer at Memos from the Middle on Substack
Midlife has a way of revealing what we’ve outgrown—and reminding us who we are.
This message is for the woman who is ready to replace autopilot with intention.
What You Already Know
Tanya Powell, owner of BWell Coaching, co-host of the Double Take podcast, and writer at Memos from the Middle on Substack
She feels it in the over-caretaking, in carrying what was never fully hers to carry. In the over-functioning and over-controlling. In the ache of grieving parts of life that seem to be slipping by.
And also in the quiet longing for what’s meant for her, now.
She’s been proving, perfecting, performing, and protecting — often at a cost she’s only beginning to name. And somewhere in the middle of this season of life, another version of her has been whispering, asking her to listen.
I know this woman. I’m still her.
Everything she’s feeling — all of it — is pointing her toward the same thing: self-trust. Not as a destination, but as the way through.
I think about the versions of me that built self-trust — and the ones that lost it.
The 19-year-old me — fearless, on my own, my whole life in front of me. For the first time, I was the main character. The bold 24-year-old who gave herself the green light without hesitation.
And then the moment I became a mother for the first time — holding her in my arms and feeling a love so enormous it arrived as fear. Someone else was the main character now. And somehow, without noticing, I began to lose the thread back to myself.
Every version of us is building something — forged in the hard seasons, shaped by the transcendent ones. Self-trust takes root in all of it, strengthening after every storm.
Here’s what I’m learning.
Self-trust is our inner compass. It’s both a verb and a place that feels like home. From it grows confidence, compassion, and connection — both to ourselves and to others. It lives in the space between effort and surrender.
When we learn to listen, we begin to trust what comes back:
What do I really want?
What’s true for me, now?
That compass hasn’t disappeared. It isn’t broken.
It’s just buried.
Three things that quietly erode self-trust:
1. Looking everywhere but inward.
By midlife, most of us are far more practiced at gathering everyone else’s opinions than trusting our own. The more we outsource our knowing, the more unfamiliar it becomes. It turns into a loop — and somewhere inside it, we lose the ability to hear our own voice.
2. Living in overdrive.
Overdrive works for a long time. It produces results, earns approval, and keeps the noise of our inner life at a manageable volume. But eventually, the body starts sending signals: the restlessness, the Sunday dread, the feeling that we’re performing our lives more than actually living them. Those signals aren’t problems. They’re invitations.
3. Reasoning past what we feel.
We know — the relationship we’ve outgrown, the career that no longer fits, the rest our body keeps asking for. We know something needs to change, but we have a convincing argument for why now isn’t the right time. We override our body’s signals with logic: the tension, the fatigue, the sinking feeling before we say yes when we really mean no. Self-trust begins when we treat what we feel as signal, not noise.
We don’t have to rebuild it all at once.
Three ways to begin coming home:
1. Honor the small things.
Self-trust isn’t rebuilt in big, dramatic moments. It returns in the tiny, ordinary ones: What do you actually want right now? Every time you notice a preference and honor it, you reinforce the belief that your inner experience matters. This is self-trust as a verb — and the practice compounds.
2. Pause before answering.
Most of us say yes before we’ve even finished hearing the question. The practice is simple: pause. Breathe. Ask yourself what you want, separate from what you think you should want. You don’t always have to say no. You just have to stop saying yes before checking in with yourself.
3. Stop talking yourself out of what you already know.
That quiet, persistent feeling that something needs to change, that this chapter is complete, that there must be another way — it isn’t a malfunction. It’s wisdom. Write it down. Say it out loud to someone safe. Trust what you already know.
Self-trust is simply the practice of returning to yourself.
You haven’t lost her.
That voice that’s been whispering — she’s still there.
Trust her. It’s not too late.
Tanya helps women in midlife come home to themselves. She is co-host of the Double Take podcast, and writer at Memos from the Middle on Substack. bwellcommunity.com
A quick word from Heather Mills:
Tanya asks: what do you want right now?
So simple… and no less profound.
How often are we asked that and give a full, honest answer?
I think about the business professional who is hesitating to fully realize her aim, still playing–and portraying–small.
I think about the mothers watching time fly by, and thinking: maybe some day… while those days build on each other and turn into years gone by.
I think about the woman who–envying others boldly display their beauty–still ignores her own.
As a business professional, mother, and woman myself, this message challenges—and encourages—me to live with intention. Does it do the same for you?
Thank you again to Tanya Powell, owner of BWell Coaching, co-host of the Double Take podcast, and writer at Memos from the Middle on Substack.
Be sure to say hello to her at:
