The Invisible Years — Reflections on Being Seen, as We Grow Older

There comes a time in a woman’s life, often somewhere around our sixties, when the world seems to start looking past us.

We are no longer the ones people invite on wild weekends or impulsive adventures. The phone rings less for holidays or family gatherings.

And sometimes, it’s not strangers who forget us, it’s our own grown-up children, our daughters, our sons, the ones we once carried, nurtured, and poured our whole hearts into.

It can hurt.

Really hurt.

There’s a deep, quiet ache in feeling like you’ve become the sensible one, the babysitter, the one who’s “past all that.” imagine them say, “Mum wouldn’t want to come — it’s not her thing anymore.”

And yet… you would have liked to be asked.

It’s not about needing to dance all night or drink cocktails by the sea — it’s about being seen, included, remembered as a woman who still holds her own wild spark.

Because we are not done.

We are ripening — not fading.

There’s a whole world of wisdom, laughter, and mischief still burning quietly inside us.

I convince myself , maybe this is part of the transition , stepping from mother into elder, from caretaker into wise woman.

And yet, even the wise woman longs for connection. She longs to be seen not just as “Mum,” or “Nan,” but as herself: a woman of depth, humour, sensuality,a experience.

So, if you are reading this and feeling invisible, take heart.

You are not forgotten by Life itself.

Your presence still weaves through your family, your community, and the Earth beneath your feet.

You are part of the sacred circle of life, the silver thread that holds it all together.

And perhaps, it’s time to begin calling your joy back home, not waiting for others to include you, but inviting yourself to the feast.

Book that little trip. Go dancing. Buy yourself flowers.

Laugh with friends who see your spirit shining bright.

Because you are still here.

You are radiant.

And you are, in every way that matters, very much alive.

With love and grace,

Jan 🌹

Magical Muse Medicine Weaver