Friday

Life Feels Different These Days

Lately, I’ve been realising something that’s been hitting me harder than I expected: life has become… difficult. I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older, my kids are getting older, or if I’m just juggling too much, but the weight of it all feels heavier than it used to. Things I once managed without thinking now leave me needing a sit-down and a strong cup of tea.

And it’s not just the practical stuff. My mind has been wandering down memory lane a lot. I’ve been thinking about all the people who used to be in my life—friends I spent every waking minute with, people I thought would always be around, those who’ve sadly passed away, and others who’ve simply drifted. Some I know the reasons why, some I’ll never understand. But recently, my brain seems determined to dig them all up, one by one, and demand answers.

The problem is, it gets dark in there when you start asking why people left. Was it me? Was it them? Was it life just pulling us in different directions? Probably a mix of all three. And while I don’t want to wallow, sometimes it feels like my head is hosting a full-on reunion of ghosts from the past, and none of them brought wine.

That’s when I remind myself: life is like a train station.

People come and go. Some stay for just a few stops, some ride with you for miles. Some leave before you’re ready to say goodbye, but every single one of them teaches you something. Even if they’re not meant to stay forever, they leave their mark. The key is learning when to hold on tight and when to let them catch their next train—because not everyone is on the same journey, and that’s okay.

I’ll be honest, though: sometimes I don’t want it to be okay. Sometimes I want to throw a tantrum like my three-year-old when someone says no to biscuits. I want to shout, “Why did you leave? We weren’t done yet!” But then I look at the people still here—the chaos of my kids, the friends who did stick around, the random strangers who sometimes feel more supportive than people I’ve known for years—and I realise that maybe the train station isn’t such a sad place after all.

It’s busy, it’s noisy, it’s often stressful, and occasionally someone spills coffee down your new coat—but it’s also full of energy, excitement, and fresh connections. You never know who’s getting on at the next stop, and maybe that’s the point.

So yes, life feels different these days. Harder, heavier, sometimes lonelier. But it also feels richer in ways I didn’t expect. Getting older means I can look back and see the different platforms I’ve stood on, the different carriages I’ve sat in, the different journeys I’ve shared. And while some passengers are gone, I’m still here, ticket in hand, waiting to see what comes next.

And if I’ve learned anything, it’s this: whether people stay for three stops or thirty years, whether they drive you mad or lift you up, they were part of your ride for a reason. Even if the reason was just to teach you not to share a bathroom with someone who uses the last of the toilet roll and doesn’t replace it.

Life is messy, people are complicated, and I’m knackered—but I wouldn’t swap my train journey for anyone else’s.
FiveKidsOneMom