Something has been shifting for you lately. Maybe quietly. Maybe slowly. Maybe in a way you do not quite have words for yet. A heaviness that does not have a clear name. A quiet sense that something needs to change even though you cannot quite point to what.
There is a particular kind of tiredness that is hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it. Not just physical exhaustion – though that is real, and it doesn’t lift the way it used to. It is more like a faint hollowness underneath a life that looks full.
A compassionate exploration of the caregiver body, why she’s never learned to have needs of her own, and why midlife asks her to include herself again.