The Queenager: Eleanor’s Letter (July 14th 2024)

Dear Queenagers

Greetings on this day of high drama – I woke up to my husband exclaiming “Fuck!” as he opened his phone and saw the footage of the attempted assassination of Donald Trump. Wow that was close, his bleeding ear proof that if the marksman had been a centimetre or two the other way he’d be dead. Now I am no Trump fan but I don’t wish death on anyone, particularly while they are playing their democratic part. The abuse of politicians in this election (particularly women) and the recent deaths of Jo Cox MP and David Amess MP (both murdered in their constituencies) shows violent political acts aren’t just an American phenomenon. As politics gets heated in this year of multiple elections we should all be grateful for the peaceful transmission of power and never take for granted the smooth way in which our leaders listen to the will of the people, leave Downing Street and then just a few hours later a new chief takes the reins.

I have been in deepest Devon for most of the last week avoiding the news and trying to have a rest so it feels (pleasingly)  surreal to return to a different cast of cabinet and a new prime minister. If England win the football tonight it really will really feel like a new era – 1966 is a long time ago. I am a Queenager and I wasn’t even born then. I don’t really care about football but I can feel the national build-up of tension, I’ve spent enough years as a journalist to sense the zeitgeist and know how much it will mean to everyone. I woke up this morning thinking of all those young men in Berlin, and how much pressure is on their shoulders. I bet they wish it was already tomorrow!

Talking of ‘tomorrows’ the big theme at the NOON Retreat at Wasing on Friday (that’s us all having lunch by the lake) was about the madness of ‘retirement’ – the need for a new terminology and how many of the women never intend to ‘retire’ in the traditional sense. There seemed to be zero enthusiasm for the idea of downing tools and playing golf, or sitting idle on the sidelines of life. “I am 70 and I am never retiring” said one Queenager, who had just sold her business. Another septuagenarian inspired us all by outlining her plans for the next few years: selling her house, returning again to Australia and New Zealand where she grew up and then going on a world tour, moving to Totnes (where they, like she, are passionate about combatting the climate crisis) setting up an ambitious scheme to improve the mental health of the young. She asked the NOON Circle which she should do first: we all – unanimously – said: ‘Do all of it!’.

These women embody the Queenager motto of: ‘You are never too old and it is never too late’. Indeed one of my huge pleasures now NOON has been going for over three years is to see the positive changes in so many of the Queenagers who come. At Wasing, one of the women attendees first came to a NOON retreat in the wake of family tragedy. I remember her weeping and expressing that she felt her life would never be happy again; that she had no idea how to move forward. But last week she was back, full of joy and smiles, the crisis having passed. She said “Of course you never get over it but you learn to live with it”. She talked about how much the NOON community had helped her on the journey.

I have noticed how the Queenager experience takes a particular shape. Many of you come to NOON in freefall; in that shocked mode, when the life we knew suddenly vanishes. I felt that intensely myself when I was made redundant. In the meeting when it happened I became entirely disembodied. Papers were being handed around and words spoken, but my mind was far away swooping with the pigeons on the Cathedral roof opposite the glass tower where I sat. Watching a tug boat chugging its way up the Thames. In the months afterwards my brain kept returning to that terrible moment in dreams or anxiety, like a tongue worrying the hole left by a lost tooth. I’ve seen many of you in a similar state: whether that’s because of bereavement or divorce or illness or redundancy or in the throes of an empty nest or dealing with a kid in serious difficulties. I set up NOON because when I was in that freefall state and I looked around for something or somewhere that might help me reinvent or offer support in that hour of need I couldn’t find anything that fitted the bill: the HMRC website on redundancy was NOT what I was seeking. It makes me so happy every time I hear one of you say that you found NOON while in that moment of crisis and that it helped. It makes me feel that my own life crisis was not in vain, that we have built something useful.

But what I also see is that some of you don’t hit one big moment where everything changes, but have a slower, creeping but just as intense sense that something has to shift. Whether it is a slow burn or a sudden calamity what follows is a time of intense change and transition. I’ve learnt both from my own experience and watching all of you that some time out of normal life eg a retreat or break with some others going through something similar is a crucial crutch. That pause, both to grieve what has gone but also to start to dream of what could be, is a key part of the healing process. It is important to let ourselves be ‘putty’ – unformed, waiting to take a new shape. Not feeling like we have to have all the answers immediately. Perhaps giving ourselves six months or a year before we start taking any big decisions. That is the advice handed out to people after a bereavement – don’t make any massive changes eg selling a house or ending a relationship in the immediate aftermath. Allow things to settle. I think that is true of any big life change. We need to sit with it. Accept that we won’t know for a while. Allow ourselves to grieve what has gone, to go through the pain before we start thinking about what comes next.

Again -I’ve seen so many of you go through these stages. And what is most wonderful is seeing you emerge from the pupa, the chrysalis, as colourful butterflies, taking wing into a sparkling new future. Lit from within with power and purpose. Truly moving into your Queenager prime. This isn’t just a myth, or a dream. I have seen many of you manifest it. And we see it in our Midlife Women research too – after the midlife clusterfuck or collision, those who have been through the most, who have shed the most end up the happiest. They get their lives set up just as they want them to be.

I offer this because some of you on Friday where in the darkest bit, where the pain is raw. One of the women spoke about losing her husband of 30 years. “He was my world” she said, and cried. The Circle moved to comfort her. There was much loss present, but also much reinvention and renewal. So much hope and positivity. When we come together all those stories mingle. The sadness with the possibility of reinvention. Those further along the Queenager path modelling what is to come for those who follow.

That was always my dream, my intention. Thank you, all of you, for making that a reality. Without your participation whether that is just subscribing to and reading this email, or coming along to our events online or in person – you are all part of this Queenager revolution. I love hearing how many of you have been reading this weekly missive since the beginning but sometimes only muster up the courage to come along in person several years in. Today, I just want to say that I see you, I feel you – I can’t wait to meet you when the time is right for you. I was so touched by how far some of you had travelled on Friday – driving all the way from East Anglia and Cheshire.

We had a hilarious moment on Thursday night when Karen and I (who camped on the Wasing estate in the orchard that’s me with our tent) nipped out for supper and received a tap on the shoulder from two Queenagers on the next table: “We’re coming to the retreat tomorrow” they said. They’d met at a former NOON event, kept in touch and stayed together at the wonderful Hind Head pub nearby to attend the retreat. That is NOON spirit in action, creating a web of support and connection; new friendships, new bonds. A kind of mycelium Queenager web across the UK and across the world.

On that note, it is getting excitingly near to the launch of my book Much More to Come on August 1st (that’s me with Marleigh Queen of marketing and one of the first copies at the HarperCollins summer party). It is going to be serialised in the Daily Mail over the next couple of weeks, and there will also be articles about it in the Telegraph, Irish Times, Good Housekeeping and many other media outlets. Tomorrow I have to go and be photographed -the full hair and makeup malarkey – not really my best thing. But what I hope is that the book will expand our Queenager revolution, tell more people about this new conversation about what we can do and be at this point in our lives: that my book will act as a map, some signposts of what is possible both to those in midlife currently feeling lost and unseen, and to all the women coming up behind us.

I would be so grateful if you can spread the word – maybe buy it for someone you know who might need it (you can get it for half price if you use the code Muchmore50 on the Waterstones.com website) or tell someone about Noon.org.uk if it might help them. Together we can change the story our culture has about older women to something more positive and fit for purpose.

Oh – and if you are worried about your pension or Queenager finances do join our finance webinar this Tuesday at 6.30pm (tickets on that link, free, no question too stupid… this is a chance to really understand the small things that you can do which will make a difference).

And if you fancy hearing me interview Adele Parks about her thrilling new book First Wife’s Shadow (and all things Queenager) again, we have a free Noon Book Club webinar on july 25^th  – click here for details.

And if you’d like to join me in person for a walk, cake, and a reading from Much More to Come – we’re meeting at a Queenager’s farm in Warwickshire on Sunday July 28^th for a special NOON Walk and tea to celebrate publicationclick the link to get a ticket.

Lots of love and thanks so much for being part of this journey – on this momentous day.

Go England!!!! (not a sentence I write very often…)

Lots of love

Eleanor

By Eleanor Mills