Because midlife peace is not optional, it’s survival.
There comes a moment, somewhere between reheating your tea for the third time and hiding in the laundry room to cry for five uninterrupted minutes, when you realize: you need a sacred space.
Not a “Pinterest perfect” reading nook. Not a boho glam sanctuary with macrame and eucalyptus (unless that’s your thing!) Just a place, even if it’s the side of your bed, a corner of your porch, or a locked bathroom door, where you can breathe and be no one’s anything for just a little while.
Midlife is wild, y’all. The hormones are disrespectful, the house is loud, and if one more person asks me what’s for dinner, I might literally change my name and flee to Sparta. That’s why sacred space matters more now than ever.
My sacred space? It changes. Sometimes it’s a hot bath with a 90’s alternative playlist. Sometimes it’s five stolen minutes on the back porch with a cup of chai, and my current read, or laid out on my porch swing late at night, just me, the cicadas and a sky full of stars. Sometimes it’s sitting in my car alone, letting the silence settle like a prayer.
What matters is what it holds, not throw pillows, but peace. Not decor, but dignity. That’s where we reconnect with ourselves, the self that isn’t doing or fixing or cleaning or answering to anyone.
So carve it out, baby. Guard it. Honor it. And if your people don’t respect it? Lock the damn door. They’ll live.
🫶🏼 – Ali
