The brilliant thing about being a writer with a long history of baring their soul online is that you’re never more than a click away from bumping into your past self. It is now 10 years since I wrote this piece about being on the cusp of my 40s and of finding enjoyment in friendships that endure and parties that don’t happen in soft play centres (the sweating children! the ball pit streaked with wee!).

Today, I sit on the cusp of my 50s and, having turned 49 just this week, find myself compelled to write down how that feels. 10 years ago I said proudly I’d not given in to elasticated trousers, today I will openly brag that I’m wearing them. Last time I spoke about “the girls we were, and the women we now are”, today I continue to think about the woman ‘I will become’ – am I not that woman already?

And, because of the way my brain worked, I suddenly thought “hey, I’m 49! That must make me a 49er – maybe I should set up a club and see how long it takes for the San Francisco 49ers to issue a cease and desist!”. And then I had a word with myself and thought maybe I could just share some writing with you instead. So here’s a few thoughts…

The 49er and motherhood

For some time my children have enjoyed announcing that I am “nearly fifty”. And whilst the experience of mid-life being the ‘hard yards’ (something I’ve written about here) the statement of fact about my age has not caused me any real trauma. It’s also something I can counter with my daughter in particular by stating that she’s “nearly twenty”. Turns out when you’re 17 you absolutely do not want to think about being a proper grown up with actual bills and responsibilities.

What my kids do want to think about is how my next birthday will result in a big party at which they can drink. Or the nice holiday that they will want to be part of instead of the annual trip to Wales which includes daily (lengthy) dog walks. If you want to check out the finery that accompanies these kind of holidays – check out this post about the impact that getting a dog had on our lives and marvel at the fact that despite our first dog ruining our fashion sense, home furnishings and bank balance, we now have two….

But enough of the dogs, back to the kids. With one almost 16 and the other a mere month away from turning 18, life is very different to when I was facing forty. In that space of ten years we have waved goodbye to primary school, rode the first rollercoaster of GCSEs and are moments away from the safety bar lifting with a pneumatic ‘pwisshhh’ as our daughter gladly exits A-levels and leaves formal education behind with a roar and a squeal of wheels. There’s been boyfriends and girlfriends, soaring happiness and heartbreak. Parties, puking and pretending certain things haven’t happened (but we mothers know when they have ;).

I have embraced (survived?) teaching my daughter to drive and felt proud of myself as well as her when she passed 😀 If you are facing this epic challenge, feel free to check out my Three Top Tips for Teaching Your Teenager to Drive video

My son has embraced going to away games with his dad and it delights me to see the delight he takes in dissecting every moment of his League One footballing odyssey – be it the football itself or the “absolute state” of the opposing team’s fans, I am here to hear it even if I don’t understand it.

The conversations are different, their accents have changed (and intriguingly, are not the same). Shaped more now by friendships and interests than parental influence, the dinner table brings them together in person even when they are mortally opposed. They trade insults openly that drive us both to distraction (and indigestion) and yet privately will say that they ‘like’ each other at least. I miss the days when they ate without complaint but am grateful for the fact that we largely still eat together and hope even those moments when everyone seems to be in such a foul mood they’d like to fork one another in the eyes counts towards some kind of family bonding (ha!).

I am conscious of the pressure they are under, or feel under, at school where the discourse is so different from what I grew up with. Predicted grades must be met. Applications must be made. If you’re not going to uni then surely you must have a preferred apprenticeship at a big consulting firm in mind? I sit there and wonder “whatever happened to just getting a job?” and feel like I’m failing to instil ambition. There is more, so much more to say on this parenting lark but let’s dedicate the second part of this post to that point of ambition….

The 49er and ambition

Ambition used to be my middle name. I was always very ambitious to get on, do well, improve my lot. In a work perspective it was about increasingly bigger salaries and responsibilities. Big pay packet? Check! Corporate job? Check! Managing teams? Check! I found my outer limit and then left corporate life behind. Something that, peculiarly, is one of the very best benefits of that kind of career – take the money, keep the network and friendships, and RUN.

On the personal side I had big ambitions too – the hefty whoppers that are financial and emotional stability. A family of my own that was free of chaos and free to choose. A life that included travel, fun and interesting experiences.

With the corporate experience packaged away and family life largely as I would like it, my ambition turned towards scratching my creative itch (and making it pay). In the past ten years this has meant paid podcasting, ghostwriting, stand up, publishing books and keynote speaking on unbelievably big and brilliant stages.

I don’t entirely know where this drive comes from. Maybe there is something to be said for early hardship but I certainly wouldn’t advocate it (and have done everything in my power to protect my children from it). I know from spending a lot of time in the Social Mobility space that much of what I now enjoy comes from a mixture of not just hard work and talent, but also timing and luck.

But this level of striving is not sustainable. Or at least, you can’t just run at it like you did in your 20s and 30s. I’ve been reminded of this thanks to some amazing people who are at the beginning of their careers and making incredibly big waves. People who I count among my friends and who inspire me with their drive, achievements and enthusiasm. If not careful, I can find myself wondering why I’m not doing the same things as them. And then I remind myself that my life today was once my dream. And that the life I have might also be someone else’s dream. So maybe I should close my eyes, sit back, and enjoy it 😉

I really hope you enjoyed this post. If you’re a fellow 49er, let me know what you think and what your experiences are – it would be great to hear from you 🙂