When my mum died at 65, the day before I was due to start a new job, life did what life does: it knocked the stuffing out of me. Flowers arrived, cards piled up, colleagues offered condolences. I cried, I snapped, I went numb. Weakness crept in.
As someone who lives and breathes words, I over-thought and over-told everything. Happiness was a concept I recognised but could not reach. My blog went quiet. I threw myself into work, as if deadlines and emails could somehow outrun grief. Work became my lifeline. But, of course, emotions have a way of erupting at the most inconvenient moments.
Avoidance is a terrible strategy
I should have paused, taken a week off, let myself sit with my feelings and my family. I should not have let work become my emotional crutch. But I did. One day for mum’s funeral, and then straight back to the office. I told myself productivity was my armour, but really, I was hiding. Stuck. Growing nowhere.
The breaking point came at a social gathering when someone handed me a “Dummies Guide to Creative Writing.” Yes, that really happened. I cried. I shook. I felt as though I’d been pushed off a skyscraper and left to tumble.
A small book that punched back
Just when I thought I had nothing left, a book arrived: I AM YOUR FRIEND by Billy Bacall. Billy created it during her own darkest times, after her husband died and she battled cancer. Drawing, writing, creating: it was her way through, and it became mine.
Part of the proceeds support the breast cancer charity Future Dreams, but beyond that, the book became my lifeline. Its illustrations and words didn’t just soothe, they insisted I take my life back. It reminded me that I could stop being a victim, that happiness was not only possible but waiting for me to reach out and grab it.
The brutal, beautiful year
The past year has been relentless. Life has a knack for testing resilience. I’ve learned that survival is sometimes victory enough. And I’ve discovered that exercise is more than physical, it is mental therapy disguised as sweat. My endorphins are finally in charge and it’s great.
For me, the therapy has been Les Mills Body Combat, Scooter, throwing punches with every ounce of pent-up frustration. My Achilles tendons may hate me, but nothing beats a right hook executed with pure anger-turned-pleasure. There’s a satisfaction in turning emotional turmoil into movement, and fending off imaginary assassins is utterly empowering.
Midlife happiness, my way
So what have I learned? If you’re struggling with grief, exhaustion, or the general overwhelm of midlife, here’s what works for me:
- Read. A good book can be a lifeline, a reminder that others have survived.
- Move. Dance, punch, spin, run. Let your body do the therapy your brain can’t.
- Write. Blog, journal, scribble. Put words on paper. Don’t censor. Don’t apologise.
I’ve returned to blogging, not because I have all the answers, but because telling my story helps others feel less alone. And that, more than any fitness high or motivational mantra, brings me relief.
Midlife is not about perfect bodies, perfect grief, or perfect homes. It’s about survival, learning, and discovering the small wins: the right hook, the perfect paragraph, the quiet moments that make life feel alive again.
After all, the pen may be mightier than the sword, but a well-aimed punch in Body Combat comes a very close second.
How have you managed grief while juggling midlife responsibilities? I’d love to hear your experiences and coping strategies.
18 responses to “How I found happiness in grief, words, and throwing punches”
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I do Les Mills workouts regularly at my gym, usually body combat on Saturdays. I prefer body pump to challenge myself.
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Good going girl. Sometimes work outs are the best way to combat stress and give a mental clarity. And working on your body is awesome.
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I’ll look into it. Though I try to work out when time allows it, I find it very boring. I have yet to find a work out that will keep me entertained while doing it, it might help me stay motivated for longer.
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Well done! I would like to try this “brain is releasing only happiness making endorphins” workout 🙂
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I lost my dad early this year and I couldn’t keep up with anything or anyone. I shot myself out and stayed in for many months thinking about a million different ways I could have saved him or made his passing less painful. I tried getting into a workout routine which is usually my go-to activity to bring myself out of any slump, I couldn’t keep up with a 30-day challenge.
But I am getting better and starting to come out now.
I’m not sure how I would fare with a 100-day challenge as I’m rarely consistent with anything.
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Grace, I’m so sorry to hear this. It’s very hard. Everyone is different and exercise helps but doesn’t heal. You just have to do what’s best for you. Take care x
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I’ve started my fitness journey recently, and have added some light workout – I feel inspired after reading your post.
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It’s really hard to lose a loved one. The emotions after all is done I think is the most hard to deal with. Glad that you found a great outlet for it all. Stay strong love.
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Saffron and Cyrus is a Newcastle-based family lifestyle blog, covering health, wellness, days out, travel, reviews, recipes and more from our family life.
The blog is written by new mum over 40, Saffron, with input from hubby H and son, Little C.
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