The Storm, the Puppies, and What’s Next in Midlife

This post is a little different. It’s tender. It’s raw. It’s me, in the middle of a transition I didn’t quite see coming—but one I know I’m not alone in.

My kids are growing up. My daughter is a senior in high school. My son will be one next year. That alone brings its own kind of ache. But there’s more. My coaching practice has slowed down. And I find myself asking big questions about who I am and what I want. Where I want to go next. What still fits—and what doesn’t.

I wasn’t expecting this. I knew the empty nest season was coming. I knew there’d be change. But I didn’t expect to be questioning everything. And then, last Saturday night, I had a dream that cracked something open.

The Dream

In the dream, my husband and I were staying in a place in Buffalo, where I’m originally from, and where we had our first apartment together back in 1998. It was present day, but the place felt temporary, like we were renting it. Not rooted.

The back door kept flying open even though it was locked. We realized it was the wind—it was very windy. And when I looked out the window, there was a tornado right upon us.

Our dogs were there—Scarlet and Ruby. And Scarlet, our shorkie, was having puppies... in the middle of the storm.

We moved to the center of the room to ride it out. Then, out of nowhere, an enormous amount of water was dumped on us. But strangely, nothing got wet.

That’s all I remember. But it stayed with me.

What Dreams Reveal

I shared the dream with a friend over coffee the next morning. I had a hunch it was important. It didn’t feel random; it felt meaningful.

She suggested I plug it into AI for interpretation. So I did. And what came through absolutely blew my mind.

Buffalo wasn’t just a city—it was an origin. Memory. The beginning of my adult life. The wind represented change, pushing through no matter how tightly I tried to hold the door shut. The tornado? Emotional upheaval. The kind that comes when your kids are growing up, your career is shifting, and you’re asking, Who am I now?

But here’s the part that cracked me open: Scarlet having puppies in the middle of the storm. That’s new life. That’s creation. That’s something being born, even in chaos.

And the water that didn’t soak us? That’s emotional processing without drowning. That’s grief and transition, but also resilience.

This dream mirrored everything I’ve been feeling. The ache of being needed less. The boredom. The doubt. The longing to feel important again. And the quiet whisper that maybe something new is trying to be born.

Midlife Is Messy

This season is strange. One minute, I’m grieving the quiet of my house. The next, I’m staring at my business wondering if it still fits. It feels disjointed—like I’m living multiple endings at once.

But maybe that’s what midlife is. A shedding. A closing of chapters that were never meant to last forever.

So I’m listening.

To the ache.

To the boredom.

To the quiet grief of being needed less.

To the part of me that wonders, What now?

I’m not rushing to fix it. I’m not chasing urgency. I’m not hustling for worth.

What’s Emerging

I don’t know exactly what’s next.

But I know I’m not going back to what was.

I’m drawn to opportunities that feel emotionally aligned—where I can be useful without abandoning myself.

I’m considering writing a book—it’s something I’ve carried in my heart for a long time.

I’m reimagining what my work could become if I let it grow with me, instead of trying to squeeze myself into something that no longer fits.

And I’m letting this dream be a guide. A mirror. A message.

The Great Shedding of 2025

Lately, I’ve been seeing posts about 2025 being the year of the great shedding—the end of a 9-year karmic cycle. And when I read that, something in me exhaled.

Because when I look back to 2016, I see it. That’s when so much began. That’s when I started building the life I thought I was supposed to live—after cancer, after corporate, after collapse.

And now, nine years later, I feel it. The unraveling. The ache. The invitation to release what no longer fits—grief, shame, betrayal, identities I’ve outgrown.

It’s not just personal. It’s collective. We’re all being asked to let go of what’s kept our hearts closed.

This dream, this storm, this season—it’s all part of that shedding. And maybe, just maybe, what’s being born isn’t just a new chapter. It’s a new way of being. One rooted in self-trust, emotional safety, and truth.

If You’re in the Storm Too…

If your kids are growing up…

If your body is changing…

If your work no longer fits…

If you’re feeling deflated, or bored, or quietly grieving the version of you that used to feel important…

Come to the center of the room with me.

Let’s ride out the storm together.

Let’s trust that something new is trying to be born.

And let’s not rush it. Let’s just listen.

You’re Not Lost. You’re Becoming.

Thank you for being here, and for witnessing this moment with me.

If something in this story speaks to you, I’d love to hear from you. You can book a connection call here.

And if you’re navigating your own storm, know this:

You’re not lost. You’re becoming.

If this story resonates, don’t just read—listen. The full podcast episode is here, and it might be the mirror you didn’t know you needed.

xo,

Amy

Amy English

Life Coach | Fat2Fierce®

Fat2Fierce | YouTube | Podcast

Break the Overeating Cycle. Build Self-Trust. Be Free in Your Body.