You're leaving a legacy...

Whether you want to or not.

Aug 05, 2025

My mom is one of 16 kids. She was the quintessential good girl: she helped with her younger siblings, respected her parents, studied hard, and continued to college which she loved.

Until my grandmother found her a job so she could help support the family.

My mom handed over every bit of her paycheck save the few pounds it cost to buy pantyhose to wear to work.

It was her duty to help the family.

Hard work was rewarded with praise.

Family was everything.

Self came last.

My mom gave far more energy to my personal development than her mom gave to her. Perhaps it was easier for her. She only had 3 kids.

My mom strongly encouraged me to go to university, to work hard, and spend wisely.

She also taught me that family came first.

Work was rewarded.

Sacrifice, revered.

Self came last.

I strived to give my daughter everything she needed and most of what she wanted to the best of my ability, giving far more time and energy to her personal development than my mom gave to me.

I raised her to value family.

Help out around the house.

Be grateful.

Look for the silver lining.

And put self last.

Like I always did.

And I sorely regret it.

I don’t remember how old my daughter was when my mindset began to change, when I came to understand that I also mattered.

Not just as a daughter, a wife, or a mother, but as a woman.

And I did my best to relay this revelation to my daughter.

I agreed to the surgeries I required for my feet even though they put me out of commission for months.

I bought myself new clothes. And shoes!

I swan-dived into writing, gaining an outlet, a passion, and a career in one fell swoop.

Health, my own, became more of a priority.

And the world did not come to a screaming halt.

In fact, my husband supported me, and my kids cheered me on.

My daughter is 29 now.

She called me the other day to tell me about her shopping spree and the new clothes and shoes she got for herself.

‘This is my opportunity,’ I thought.

“Good for you!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah,” she mused. “I was feeling guilty about spending so much money, but then I heard your voice in my head telling me I deserved good things, so I went for it.”

In that moment, I felt like mother of the freaking year.

It’s not too late.

Our words matter.

Our example matters.

Nobody wins when you put yourself last all the time.

Least of all, our daughters, nieces, and future daughter-in-laws.

There are legacies and lessons we want to pass on to our children, but self-sacrifice to the extent many moms practice might not be one of them.

I know what it is to be busy, and I know how hard it is to find the gaps in the schedule where we can wedge in a little self-love.

Don’t wait any longer.

You’re never going to be ready, and life is never going to issue you an invitation, offer to babysit, or clean your house for you.

Start off small, you’ll gain confidence in your worthiness as you go.

You deserve good things.

Enough with the deep thoughts, let’s move on to sex and swoon with a side serving of perimenopausal rage in my upcoming marriage in trouble, second chance romance!

If you read The Sage Ridge Series, you’ve met Wren’s son, Aaron, and his girlfriend, Nadine. Fast forward a couple of decades, and we find them floundering in an oversized empty nest, wrestling with perimenopause, and balancing a marriage on the rocks.

(And if you haven’t read the Sage Ridge series? It, along with all my books, is free to read with a Kobo Plus membership which works the same as KU.)

Happily Ever After isn't supposed to come with an expiration date.

Nadine
Barely a couple before becoming a family, Aaron and I built a beautiful life together.
Before I can blink, our children are grown and gone, Aaron’s rarely home, and I wander around our big, empty house like a lost soul.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
Or where we go from here.
And I can’t shake the niggling doubt that if we hadn’t gotten pregnant, Aaron wouldn’t have chosen me.

Aaron
When the pregnancy test came back positive, I vowed not to let it steal Nadine’s dreams. We chased this life down and wrangled it into submission.
But now our beautiful life feels more like a prison than a prize.
And I’m afraid the woman I’ve loved since I was a teenager will no longer want what I have to offer.

If she had to choose again, would she still choose us?
Would I?