There comes a point when the weight of life starts piling up so high that you can’t tell where you end and where everyone else’s needs begin.
For me, it started showing up in ways I couldn’t ignore – sleepless nights, waking every two hours, carrying resentment so heavy that even the sound of my husband’s voice felt like nails on a chalkboard, and guilt gnawing at me every time I dared to put myself first.
I used to be a solid sleeper, the kind of person who could lay down, close my eyes, and drift off to sleep without noise, lights, or distractions. But somewhere along the way – through perimenopause, raising kids into adulthood, caring for aging parents, and holding together a marriage that feels more like a business arrangement than a love story – my sleep (and my peace) became fractured.
Living “Separate but Together”
My husband and I have slept in separate bedrooms for a few years. We still share a house, but emotionally we’re worlds apart. Divorce? In a perfect world, it would have been done years ago. But reality has a way of complicating things – finances, debt, the cost of living. So I’m stuck in this limbo of separate but together, trying to figure out how to live with him without losing myself in the process.
I resent the constant complaining, the negativity that spills out without pause. And yet, there are moments I remember the man who helped me during my father’s illness, the man I once built a life with. Both realities live here, and both feel impossible.
The Pressure of Being in the Middle
It doesn’t stop with my marriage. My adult kids, especially my youngest, still live at home. I love them dearly, but being in the middle of their frustrations and their commentary on my marriage leaves me feeling like I’m suffocating. They want clarity, finality, resolution – but all I can offer is survival right now.
And when my mother-in-law, whom I truly love, suggests that we should spend time alone together or “get away for the weekend,” I cringe inside. She means well, but the last thing I want is more forced togetherness. What I want – what I need – is space to remember who I am outside of being a wife, a mom, a caretaker, a referee.
The Guilt That Won’t Let Go
Even when I try to step back, guilt has its claws in me.
- I feel guilty if I don’t make dinner.
- I feel guilty if I forget something at the store.
- I feel guilty for wanting to close my door and just be by myself.
But here’s what I’m slowly learning: guilt doesn’t mean I’m doing something wrong. It means I’m doing something different. After years of putting everyone else first, choosing myself feels uncomfortable – but discomfort is a natural part of growth.
Reclaiming Myself, One Boundary at a Time
Here’s what I’m practicing (imperfectly, but consistently trying):
- Refusing the role of referee. When conflict sparks, I remind myself: their conflict is theirs, not mine.
- Using neutral phrases. When the complaining starts, I calmly say: “I don’t have the energy for this right now” and step away.
- Letting silence work for me. Not every jab needs a comeback. Sometimes the most powerful thing I can do is walk away.
- Carving out space. My bedroom and office are my sanctuaries. I spend time there without guilt, reminding myself I deserve a life that feels peaceful.
- Reframing guilt. Instead of “I’m failing because I didn’t make dinner,” I try to remind myself, “They’re adults. I’m human. My needs matter too.”
The Truth Underneath It All
The truth is, I’m tired. Not just physically tired, but soul-tired. Tired of being in the middle, tired of being undervalued, tired of carrying everyone else’s emotions while mine sink to the bottom.
But under that tiredness, there’s still a spark – a knowing that I can reclaim myself. That even if I can’t change everything right now, I can change how I show up. I can draw boundaries. I can choose peace. I can start living a life where guilt doesn’t run the show.
This isn’t about pretending things are fine when they’re not. It’s about acknowledging the messy, complicated middle – and still deciding that you matter in the midst of it.
Reflective Invitation
If you’ve ever found yourself in the middle – between your kids, your partner, your parents, or even between who you used to be and who you’re becoming – I’d love to hear from you. How are you finding your way back to yourself?
⚠️ Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. I’m sharing personal experiences and reflections for informational purposes only. This is not medical advice. If you are struggling with your mental health, relationships, or well-being, please seek support from a licensed professional.
