This September marks 25 years since 9/11, one of those moments that divided our collective lives into before and after. We remember where we were. We remember how suddenly everything changed. We remember the uncertainty of realizing that things we had assumed were secure could be shaken in an instant.
Of course, our personal upheavals are not the same as a national tragedy. But anniversaries like this can remind us of something we sometimes forget: Life can change quickly. What once seemed solid can shift. And when it does, we discover what our lives are really built on.
I know something about that kind of discovery.
When Comfortable Wasn’t Enough
Several years ago, my life looked successful and comfortable from the outside. I was leading in my community and in my church. I had been married for 15 years. Life was good—but it had also become repetitive. In many ways, I felt as though I were living life on repeat.
That sense of living on repeat echoes something Monette Sedberry explored just a few days ago in the Best-Life Project in “Has Your Marriage Become a Little Too Predictable?”—how easily comfortable routines can begin to fill the space where something more intentional once lived.
And somewhere underneath all of that success and activity, I felt unseen and unappreciated.
That matters to my story because it created a vulnerability I didn’t fully recognize at the time.
One day, I responded to an Instagram message that appealed directly to that very human desire to feel noticed and appreciated. I let my spiritual guard down.
What began with something seemingly small became a disruption that would change nearly everything.
For three months, I was fed lies—and I believed them. At the time, I truly thought I was doing the right thing. Looking back, I can see how easily we can lose our footing when we begin looking to people, circumstances or things in this world to give us the importance, acceptance and appreciation that were never meant to come from them.
I had shifted my focus away from God and from what I knew to be true.
And it almost destroyed my life.
The Moment I Finally Saw Clearly
Eventually, I found myself sitting alone in my house—the one thing I had left. I had no job. My marriage was gone. I had no car. My money was gone. And no one was coming to rescue me.
It was one of those staggering, breathless, punch-in-the-gut moments when there is nowhere left to hide from reality.
What in the world had happened?
That moment could have been the end of my story. Instead, it became the beginning of rebuilding.
I still had two months remaining with a coach, and her guidance became an important part of finding my way forward. I also had family and friends who loved me without judging me. With their support—and with God’s grace—I began the slow work of rebuilding.
I had to create sustainability in my life again. I had to rebuild spiritually. I had to learn about forgiveness, including forgiving myself. I had to learn to love myself again.
In many ways, I had to restart my heart. It didn’t happen instantly. Real rebuilding rarely does. But I discovered something along the way: Being shaken is not the same as being destroyed.
What Are You Built On?
We spend much of our lives building.
We build careers, families, homes, friendships, reputations and financial security. We build routines that make life comfortable. We build identities around the roles we fill and the people who need us.
There is nothing wrong with any of those things.
The danger comes when we ask them to carry the weight of telling us who we are.
For many women, particularly as we move through our 50s, 60s and beyond, some of the roles that once defined us begin to change. Children leave home. Careers shift or end. Relationships change. People who once depended on us may not need us in the same way.
And we can begin to wonder:
- Do I still matter?
- Does anyone see me?
- Am I still important?
- Where do I belong now?
I understand those questions because my own need to feel appreciated opened a door I never imagined I would walk through.
What I know now is that my identity cannot depend upon who notices me, who needs me, who approves of me or who makes me feel important.
My identity has to be built on something stronger.
For me, that foundation is knowing who I am in Christ.
Freedom to Begin Again
There is tremendous freedom in realizing that the worst thing that happened in your life does not get to have the final word. Your mistakes don’t get the final word. Your losses don’t get the final word. Your age certainly doesn’t get the final word.
What happened to me is part of my story, but it is not the end of my story. In fact, it helped reveal what I am called to do with the years ahead.
Today, I work with women over 55 because I understand what it feels like to lose sight of your identity and begin searching for importance, acceptance and appreciation in places that cannot sustain you.
I don’t share my story because I have everything figured out. I share it because I have lived through what can happen when we forget who we are—and I have experienced what can happen when we remember.
The very experience that could have ended my purpose became part of my purpose.
Purpose, Impact and Legacy
There comes a point in life when success alone isn’t enough.
We begin thinking differently about what matters. We want our lives to have meaning. We want to know that what we have learned—sometimes through wonderful experiences and sometimes through painful ones—can make a difference for someone else.
That is where purpose becomes impact.
And over time, impact becomes legacy.
Maybe your life hasn’t unfolded exactly as you expected. Perhaps there are chapters you would rewrite if you could. I certainly have mine.
But those chapters may hold some of the very wisdom another woman needs. Your experience has value. Your voice has value. Your story still has value. And there is still time to use all of it.
Built to Last Doesn’t Mean Never Broken
Today, the phrase built to last means something very different to me than it once did. I don’t think it means creating a life in which nothing ever goes wrong. I don’t think it means being strong enough to avoid mistakes, disappointment, loss or failure. I think it means knowing where to return when life shakes you. It means rebuilding on a foundation stronger than approval, achievement, possessions, relationships or circumstances.
For me, Paul’s words in Ephesians 6:10–18 about putting on the armor of God have become more than familiar Scripture. They are a reminder that protecting my heart and keeping my focus on Christ is something I must choose again and again.
I know now how easily we can lose sight of who we are. But I also know this:
- We can bounce back.
- We can rebuild.
- We can forgive.
- We can restart our heart.
- We can rediscover purpose.
- And we can use even the hardest parts of our stories to reach back and help another woman find her footing.
Whatever season you are in today, don’t assume the most important part of your life is behind you. What you have lived through may have prepared you for work you haven’t even imagined yet.
Your story isn’t finished.
You are built to last.
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Pamela Duran is a faith-driven leader, author, podcaster, certified coach, and Quality Assurance Release Manager who is passionate about helping women over 55 rediscover their purpose, clarify their Kingdom message, and take bold action by faith. Through Unleash Coaching and the Unleash Vision and Faith podcast, Pamela draws from her own journey of resilience, restoration, and reinvention to remind
women that their story is not over and they are still made for more. Her mission is to help women embrace their God-given assignment, move forward with confidence, and create a meaningful legacy for generations to come.
Contact: unleashvisionfaith@gmail.com
https://linktr.ee/youareenoughnow
Coaching: https://calendly.com/pamela-duran/uplifted-and-unleashed