I’ve never considered myself middle-aged. I feel 30-something, I hear I look 30-something, so I’ve never identified with being 46 years old. 40-Something, going on 50… Wow, is that me? Already? Almost half a century old?

But a couple of things have happened to bring me to page 46.

• Empty Nest Syndrome : My only child left home a week ago, for a two year working holiday in the United Kingdom. So now I’m experiencing the condition they discuss on the morning show for women: ‘Empty Nest Syndrome’. Two years is a little different to off to the coast with friends for the summer.

Was I a good enough mother? Is he going to be okay so far away? Is he cold or, God forbid, hungry? Is he going to make the most of it, or is he going to waste this opportunity?

Today’s his 20th birthday; he’s a man now, he must look after himself. For how long can children blame their parents for who they are? Or are not? When do they accept responsibility for where and who they have become? How long are we significant in their lives before the world is more important?

• Hysterectomy : I’m going to have one of those later this week. My mother seemed ancient when she had hers, can I be old enough? Oh yes, I’m 46 – quite normal for someone ‘at your age’. Most of my friends have had one and they seem okay. But they’re going to cut my stomach open and remove some of my insides.

Some of my friends joke and say things like ‘well, the factory is going, but the playground will still be there’. Is the energy and excitement of sex the same if there is no chance of reproduction? Do men still find ‘sports models’ worthy of pursuing, since they cannot produce their offspring?

So I’m losing my son and my womb in a fortnight. That leaves me with…me. Interesting thought. Who am I? For 20 years I’ve been a mother and a potential womb for another child. I loved pleasing others, bending over backwards to keep everyone happy. I tried to please my parents, my husband (obviously goofed here, since we got divorced), my child, my friends. Did I go about pleasing myself? No.

But now I can be whomever I choose to be. I cannot wait to find out who that is!

I’ll keep you posted on my journey.