The Coup Happening Inside Women Over 40
There’s this moment when our nervous systems stop being the Golden Retriever of our personality and start acting like that one aunt who keeps a laminated boundaries worksheet in her purse.
Mine involved a copywriter I adored. Brilliant. Witty. Sharp.
We were close. Real-life close, not just “coworkers who meme.” We talked outside of work, checked in on each other’s lives, traded the big stuff and the messy stuff. When my marriage detonated, she was the first friend I called. She knew the off-the-record, off-the-cliff parts of my life.
And then the corporate gossip-goblin machine kicked up.
Some executive-level information (bland, harmless, nothingburger stuff) slinked its way through the company like a game of Telephone played by toddlers hopped up on blue Kool-Aid. By the time the story reached her, it had mutated into something I would never, ever say. Never even think.
She messaged me, accusing me of saying things that weren’t even in the same galaxy as my character. She demanded an explanation.
But here’s the truth: There was nothing to explain.
A younger version of me would have folded into myself like a panic origami crane. I would have apologized, clarified, soothed, reassured her that she was safe and loved and not betrayed.
But instead, something huge and quiet and immovable rose up inside me.
Not anger. Not spite. Clarity.
A clarity that said, without flinching: If she believes I’m capable of that, then she isn’t actually seeing me. And I don’t owe her the emotional labor of proving who I already am.
I grieved the connection I thought we had. I honored the sweetness that once lived there. I still smile at our old inside jokes when they float through my mind.
But I did not explain myself. I did not fix anything. I simply recognized that anyone who can misdefine me that easily isn’t anchored to me deeply enough to hold me. So I let the connection dissolve. Not out of punishment. Out of evolution.
Neuroscience has language for this shift (the one so many of us hit in our forties and beyond). It’s what happens when executive function, estrogen, and centuries of social conditioning finally collapse into one sad beige blanket… and biology stages a coup.
- Motivational Realignment There comes a moment when the brain quietly shifts its loyalty from social harmony to internal coherence. It whispers, “We cannot outsource our belonging anymore.” This isn’t attitude. It’s alignment.
- Cognitive Energy Conservation The prefrontal cortex uses massive energy managing tone, perception, and everyone else’s emotional weather. Eventually the brain becomes a fed-up CFO: “We are cutting the budget for bullshit.” You stop translating your brilliance into toddler-friendly pellets for Todd in Sales. Your brain simply won’t fund the nonsense anymore.
- Nervous System Boundary Activation Chronic emotional labor overstimulates the HPA axis (your stress command center). Eventually your nervous system slams its own version of menopause and says, “This is not sustainable. Boundaries are now mandatory equipment.” This isn’t you being less tolerant. It’s your actual self-returning from captivity.
- Identity Consolidation Your brain starts sorting who you genuinely are, who you performed as, and who you will never be again.
The gap between these identities closes. Not bitterly, but beautifully.
This isn’t rebellion. It’s integration. You become the aligned, accurate version of yourself, not the shrink-wrapped, people-pleasing edition the world rewarded.
Of course, once you stop performing unpaid emotional labor, people get confused.
- “Are you okay?”
- “You seem different.”
- “She’s going through something.”
- “She’s harsh now.”
No, Carl. I’m not going through something. I’m going through you.
And if the same behavior would be applauded as assertive in a 50-year-old man, then the backlash isn’t about your tone. It’s patriarchy in business casual.
When we stop performing, the guilt shows up immediately.
- “Am I becoming difficult?”
- “Will people think I’m rude?”
- “Will I lose relationships?”
- “Should I soften this? Pad this? Emoji this?”
Spoiler: You’re not turning into a “too much” monster. You’re shedding an expectation, a hand-me-down story designed to keep you prioritizing everyone else’s comfort over your own.
Here’s what we actually gain:
- AUTHENTICITY, PREFERENCES, OPINIONS. Welcome to being a person.
- ENERGY. Your brain stops being the cruise director of everyone else’s mood.
- CLARITY. Less emotional bubble wrap equals better data.
- REAL RELATIONSHIPS. The ones built on your performance fall away. The ones built on truth deepen. That’s not loss. That’s diagnostics.
Here’s what helps as you transition into this new clarity:
- NAME IT. “I’m not becoming difficult. I’m becoming neurologically optimized.”
- EXPECT RESISTENCE. Systems destabilize when the free labor leaves.
- PAUSE. Ask: Who am I protecting from this truth? And why?
- FIND YOUR PEOPLE. We’re out here, wandering HomeGoods, unbothered and unstoppable.
- GRIEVE THE OLD IDENTITY. Being universally liked is a hell of a drug.
There comes a moment when we finally understand the difference between being misunderstood and being misdefined, and we stop negotiating either.
We stop taking responsibility for untangling other people’s projections. We stop protecting relationships from the truth of who we are. We stop shrinking into versions that are easier for others to digest.
And slowly, beautifully, fiercely, we start belonging to ourselves again.
Eventually we learn the simplest and hardest truth of all: We don’t owe anyone the version of us they imagined. We don’t owe explanations to people determined to misread us or emotional acrobatics for those who can’t hold our truth without reshaping it. Our healing doesn’t require their agreement, only our permission to stop performing and start belonging to ourselves again.
When someone can’t meet us in that clarity, that’s fine. We can carry the fullness of who we are, unwavering and unmistakably magnificent.
If you feel the inner coup rumbling, my Amazon best-seller Divorced After 40 and my 8-week coaching Neuro-Proof Narrative Quest are ready to meet you at the revolution.
