The New Rules For Slow Living
From your unhinged aunty who has the audacity to say the quiet things loud.
I’m writing the new rules for slow living in midlife.
This is for women who prioritise peace but know that doesn’t mean doing less.
It’s about doing it your way.
These are the rules we live by now.
We welcome rage as a sign of growth.
It means you’re waking up to all the ways you let others in the driving seat. When you let yourself rage, you can also let yourself feel deep joy.
We know clarity arrives through slow, deliberate action.
No more waiting for the right time. We’re committed to taking even the smallest steps toward what we actually desire.
We practice discernment in decision making.
Not every opportunity deserves your yes.
We listen to our body’s whispers.
We know the difference between procrastination (fear in disguise) and an intuitive no.
One tightens the chest. The other loosens our grip.
We trust our reactions and we take action when our physical body needs attention.
We don’t believe all our thoughts.
Especially the ones that say we’re not enough—or too much. We don’t ignore red flags in others either.
We choose rhythms over routines.
No miracle mornings or 5am starts when we’re not feeling it.
We don’t squeeze ourselves into 10-minute intervals. Life moves in seasons, not spreadsheets.
We’re selfish with our time, energy, and attention.
It’s not selfishness—it’s focus.
We trust our pace.
What needs to get done will get done.
What doesn’t? Probably didn’t matter anyway.
We know housework ≠ mothering.
Housework is a task. Mothering is a relationship. Relationships trump all.
We practice luxurious self-compassion.
No one deserves our love more than us. We thrive when we take care of ourselves and everyone around us benefits when we thrive.
We move our bodies to feel good
To be strong, to be mobile, to live long.
Not to earn our treats or shrink ourselves smaller. Definitely not for the male gaze - but our friends compliments? We live for those!
We’re not asking if we’re too much anymore.
We’re asking: Why can’t they meet us here?
And then—we invite them forward.
Because we believe in their enoughness too.
We let things take the time they take.
Healing. Creative work. Our kids growing independence. We’re not rushing through the good stuff.
We honour our capacity.
We don’t overcommit just to be liked.
We rest before we’re exhausted.
Not after.
We delight in tiny pleasures.
A second coffee. Clean sheets. Dancing while we vacuum. Tiny hands reaching for us in the early hours.
We say no without over-explaining.
A boundary isn’t a negotiation. We say no to make space for the right things to say yes to.
We romanticise our lives—not because it’s perfect, but because we’re present and we know we only get one.
Why I wrote these ‘rules’.
I’ve walked through the fire.
For years, I thought that if I was useful, I’d be loved. At home, at work and in love.
It was a pattern that kept me stuck in cycles of busy, burnout and quietly festering rage. I didn’t listen to the whispers. I didn’t prioritise my own desires. I tried to fit them into the spaces when it suited everyone else.
Then I had an accident resulting in knee surgery and had to learn to walk again. Suddenly, I wasn’t useful. I had to rely on others.
Let me tell you—nothing humbles you like needing help to put on your own pants.
Eight months of rehab showed me where I needed to take my own advice. I was hiding from softness, slowness, and rest.
Worse, I was hiding from my own ambitions. It wasn’t other people holding me back. I had to face facts.
It was me. I was the one hurting myself.
These rules are for mothers, creatives, late bloomers, and the ones sick of secretly aching for more.
It’s for you.
We’re not here to be impressive.
We’re here to be free.
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