Essays and images about motherhood, midlife, and becoming myself again.
Jumping In!!
Hi. I’m Bridgette.
I’m raising children across seasons of life — from tiny hands to almost-grown ones — while learning what it means to begin again in midlife. I make things when I can. I notice light. I try to stay honest. Some days I hold it together beautifully. Other days, I cry in the car and call that progress.
I lost my mom years ago, and since then I’ve been learning how to mother — and live — without a map. After decades of putting everyone else first, this is me finding my way back to myself, slowly and without apology.
This space is where I tell the truth as gently as I can.
In words. In images. In moments that don’t need fixing.
It’s not polished. It’s not performative.
It’s real, and it’s still unfolding.
Because I’m still me in here.
Latest from the Blog
Catch up on the most recent stories. I usually share something new each week — something honest, something lived-in. You’re welcome anytime.
- Turns Out, I Was Still in HereOne Year, 54 Posts, and a Promise I Actually Kept This Friday marks one year since I started Still Me in Here. One year. Fifty-three published posts behind me, and this will… Read more: Turns Out, I Was Still in Here
- Why Women Need a Space of Their Own (So We Can Leave Our Shit Out)My period showed up Monday, eighteen days late, which feels about right for this particular season of my life. Apparently even my uterus has stopped respecting a schedule. I woke up feeling… Read more: Why Women Need a Space of Their Own (So We Can Leave Our Shit Out)
- Back When Everything Had to WaitIt’s raining outside on the first day of September, and Evelyn is watching The Grinch while I write. We finally moved on from The Adventures of Ichabod Crane, although apparently we went… Read more: Back When Everything Had to Wait
For every woman navigating perimenopause feeling alone in it. Without her mother, without answers, without anyone who gets it.
19 pages. Honest, personal, and actually useful. This is the guide I couldn’t find — so I wrote it myself.
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