Olivia Landry

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting warm patterns across the hardwood floor of my kitchen in my home in Toronto, Canada. Another year had slipped by, quietly marking my journey into the realm of fifty. Birthdays used to be occasions of celebration, but lately, they've become moments of introspection, moments where I confront the reality of my life.

As I sipped my coffee, the weight of my decision settled heavily on my shoulders. Fifty. Half a century lived, and yet, it felt like I had only just begun to understand the true cost of the path I had chosen. The demands of politics had always been relentless, but it was only in recent years that I had begun to feel the strain, the unmistakable signs of burnout creeping into my daily existence.

I had once believed that once my children were grown, life would ease its grip on me, that the juggling act of family and career would somehow become more manageable. But as my children ventured out into the world, carving their own paths, I found myself shouldering even more responsibilities, taking on more work in a desperate attempt to fill the void they left behind.

The facade I wore for the world, the perfect politician who always had everything under control, was starting to crack. Beneath the polished exterior lay a woman weighed down by the burden of her own expectations, a woman who was slowly losing sight of herself in the relentless pursuit of success.

But today, on the cusp of fifty, I made a silent vow to myself. No more excuses, no more compromises. It was time to reclaim my life, to break free from the chains that bound me to a path I no longer wished to tread. Life was too short to be a hostage to my own ambitions, too precious to be sacrificed on the altar of political success.

And so, with determination coursing through my veins, I made a decision. It was time to step away from the world of politics, to forge a new path guided not by duty or obligation, but by the simple desire to live a life that was truly my own.