I was Shagun, always doing, always planning. But in Thailand, on a solo retreat booked in 24 hours, I discovered a different Shagun. A woman who could just be. It was a midlife revelation I never expected.
So, I finally did something for myself. It’s funny how life catches up, and you don’t even realize the amount of stress you’re carrying until someone points it out.
A dear friend of mine—who’s a pro at taking time off for herself, going on retreats, and traveling solo—had been nudging me for months to do the same. She kept saying, “You need a break, Shagun. From everything—work, personal life, all of it.” And she was right.
One day, I called her up, admitting that I hadn’t done anything about it even though I knew I needed to. She laughed and said, “Well, what are you waiting for?” And then she sent me a link to a retreat she had done before, run by two amazing guys, Aaron and Mihir.
While scrolling through their page, I spotted a retreat in Thailand. And on a total whim, I booked it. Within 24 hours, it was done. No overthinking, just a quick, impulsive decision. After two decades of carefully planning every aspect of my life and career, this spontaneity felt both terrifying and exhilarating. But as the date got closer, the nerves kicked in.
From nervous beginnings to soulful connections
The night before the retreat, I arrived in Bangkok feeling completely off—nervous, restless, just not myself. I was so out of sorts that I spent the evening wandering aimlessly around the area near my hotel, not really knowing what to do with myself. There were a thousand places I could have eaten at, but something kept stopping me. So, I just went back to my hotel, feeling overwhelmed.
And of all the things, I ended up ordering a Caesar salad. Like, who seriously orders a Caesar salad in Thailand, right? That pretty much summed up my state of mind. It was like I wanted to feel comfortable but couldn’t quite figure out how.
By morning, I was seriously considering just flying back home. But somehow, I made it to the meeting point and met Aaron and Mihir—two of the nicest, most genuine people I’ve ever come across.
The journey to the island was long—four hours in a van, followed by a ferry. But those hours turned out to be a blessing. Sitting with a bunch of strangers, talking, laughing, sharing stories—it was oddly refreshing.
The magic of being seen without labels
The next five days on that island were nothing short of magical. It wasn’t about the yoga or even the mind coaching, really. It was about connecting with people. We were a group of 10 women and 3 men, just hanging out, sharing meals, having conversations that went way beyond small talk.
Every meal was an hour and a half, not because of the food, but because of the conversations. People opened up, shared their stories, cried, laughed, and just… felt. It was healing in a way I didn’t expect.
The most refreshing part? No one had preconceived notions about me. I wasn’t “Shagun who’s always busy,” or “Shagun the drama queen.” I was just me. And that was such a relief.
Like this one silly example—everyone knew I had this thing for desserts. I’d order them, eat just a bit, and leave the rest. And soon, it became a running joke: “If Shagun’s getting dessert, it’s for sharing.” It was light, fun, and judgment-free.
Midlife, mindfulness, and mental clarity
The real question I keep asking myself now is: why did this trip feel so necessary at this point in my life? And I think I have the answer.
When you’re in your mid-40s, you stop caring so much about how you’re perceived or who you’re seen with. It’s not about being part of a group or doing things because everyone else is doing them. It’s about what feels right for you.
At 46, I’ve started noticing the little changes—needing my glasses for menus and finding gray hairs that no color seems to cover for long. But alongside these physical shifts came a mental clarity I never expected. When you’re younger, vacations are about partying, friends, being seen and heard. But now? It’s about peace, connection, and experiencing something on your own terms.
Reclaiming life
And let’s be honest, life is busier and heavier in your 40s. Work is demanding, children are growing up, personal challenges don’t magically disappear. I’m sandwiched between caring for my parents and guiding my teenager, all while trying to maintain my position at work against younger colleagues who seem to have endless energy. It’s the stage where you’re trying to do your absolute best because you have the energy, the drive, and the clarity to make it happen. But it’s also the stage where the stress piles up quicker than you realize.
This trip didn’t erase my stress. But it taught me how to manage it better. It taught me to pause, to reflect, to choose my reactions rather than simply reacting.
In work especially, I find myself slowing down. Instead of responding immediately to every email or crisis, I step back and ask, “Does this need my reaction right now? Can someone from my team handle it?” And more often than not, the answer is yes.
I think this shift has left everyone around me a little bewildered—like, “Hello, why isn’t she reacting immediately?” But I’ve realized I don’t have to. And that has brought me so much peace.
Reclaiming joy
Something else I’ve noticed since hitting my mid-40s is how I’ve stopped postponing joy. That bucket list I’ve been adding to for decades? I’m finally checking things off without waiting for the “perfect time” because I’ve realized there never will be one. Now, here’s the best part. After the retreat was over, I had two days to myself in Bangkok before heading back home. And clearly, I was a changed person.
I enjoyed those two days like never before—hanging out on my own, getting drinks, going to a bar, listening to a live band, hopping on tuk-tuks and bike taxis, shopping my heart out with no one telling me it’s time to leave. Just pure, unfiltered fun.
It felt so liberating.
I think the biggest takeaway from this trip was realizing that it’s okay to take time for yourself. It’s okay to be with strangers and feel completely comfortable. It’s okay to just be you, without judgment or expectation.
And if you, like me, find yourself in this beautiful, messy middle of life—not young anymore but not old either, questioning your purpose and wondering what the next chapter holds—don’t wait. Book the ticket. You’ll thank yourself for it.
