When Did Your Evenings Stop Being Yours?
(For Women in Dublin 18, South County Dublin & North Wicklow)
There’s a question I sometimes ask women in the therapy room:
When did your evenings stop being yours?
Not dramatically.
Not because something terrible happened.
Just… gradually.
Once upon a time, you had hobbies.
You journaled.
You read novels.
You went to yoga.
You doodled.
You lay on your bed listening to music.
And then life filled in the gaps.
Partners.
Children.
Work.
Laundry that somehow multiplies.
And now, even when you technically “have time,” it doesn’t feel like yours.
Because there’s always something else you should be doing.
The Invisible Guilt Around Rest
Many women I work with in Dublin 18 and South County Dublin aren’t burnt out.
They’re functioning. Capable. Doing well.
But they feel quietly stretched.
And underneath that? Guilt.
Guilt for resting.
Guilt for not being productive.
Guilt for leaving the house in the evening “just because.”
So rest becomes something you have to earn.
And creativity becomes something you’ll return to “when things calm down.”
But when exactly is that?
Why Structured Time Changes Everything
Here’s what I’ve noticed as a Clinical Hypnotherapist/ Psychotherapist working with women locally:
If something is scheduled and paid for — we honour it.
If you book a six-week yoga course, you go.
You don’t apologise.
You don’t justify.
But unstructured time at home?
That’s the first thing to disappear.
Which is why I created something different.
Not therapy.
Not a workshop.
Not self-improvement.
Just structured, protected space.
A weekly 90-minute evening where you can journal, read, knit, lie down, think — without being needed.
I call it Me Time – The Gentle Pause.
It’s a small 6-week women’s evening group launching in South Dublin (Dublin 18 area, with potential expansion towards Bray and Greystones).
If this resonates, you can read more about it here:
You Don’t Need to Be in Crisis to Deserve Space
This isn’t about fixing yourself.
It’s about remembering yourself.
If your evenings have slowly stopped belonging to you — maybe it’s time to gently take one back.
