“Women may be the one group that grows more radical with age.” – Gloria Steinem

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” – Anais Nin

Aging is often associated with its perceived downsides — wrinkles, gray hair, saggy skin, decreased mobility and energy, and aches and pains. Yes, I’ve experienced a bit of all of those signs and symptoms of aging, but in the last 10 years, I’ve also come to embrace my inner crone and appreciate the wisdom aging brings.

The crone, a term originating in the 14th century, refers to an old, wrinkled, stooped, bad-tempered woman who possesses magical powers and wisdom. The crone is also an archetypal figure who embraces her personal power. Scholar and writer Clarissa Pincola Estés explains, “The crone represents the ability to see more than just with one’s eyes alone, but to see with the heart’s eyes, the soul’s eyes, through the eyes of the creative force, and the animating force of the psyche.”

“The crone, a term originating in the 14th century, refers to an old, wrinkled, stooped, bad-tempered woman who possesses magical powers and wisdom.”

Since childhood, I have experienced the world through an inquisitive and sensitive lens. When I’ve experienced trials and tribulations, I’ve always felt an inner struggle that manifested as headaches, anxiety, fear, and depression. Throughout my childhood and into my early 40s, my inward struggle would result in a “fight, flight, freeze, or fawn” nervous system reaction. I would fall into an abyss of pain and numbness, which often looked like staying in bed all day, using alcohol to numb myself out further, isolating, and a loss of my sense of self. In those periods of my life, I recall gazing in the mirror and my eyes reflecting a profound emptiness.

In the last 10 years, I’ve learned ways to process my inner struggles more effectively. I now acknowledge — instead of ignoring — what my body communicates. I slow down and listen. The headaches, anxiety, and melancholy don’t overwhelm me any longer. I actively use tools to regulate my nervous system (exercise, meditation, breath work, art, writing, avoiding alcohol, and spending time in nature). Now I move forward despite the fear. I have faith in myself and in my gut instincts. I am strong, capable, and years of difficult and joyful experiences have brought me wisdom about the outside world — and, more importantly, wisdom about my interior world.

I acknowledge that I may be seen by others as a bit odd or, as my mother described me, “daffy” (mildly eccentric, silly). Embracing my inner crone allows me to release fears of being judged by others or myself. The more I release, the more I return to my authentic inner self, and a flurry of creative ideas flows in. I routinely jot down ideas on sticky notes, the back of envelopes, and sometimes the notes in my phone.

“Embracing my inner crone allows me to release fears of being judged by others or myself.”

These days, I tend to coil up inside myself, enjoy my solitude, and engage in many introverted activities such as reading, writing, and art projects. I prefer small gatherings or one-on-one conversations, rather than a crowded party. I embrace taking up space with my opinions, thoughts, feelings, and creative expression. Caring what others think or say about me has begun to fall away. I’ve become more of my authentic self, and my inner crone has enabled me to create healthier boundaries in all aspects of my life. I won’t tolerate anyone who belittles me, condescends to me, or takes me for granted in my personal life or my professional life.

My inner crone sprang up in my mid 40s regarding setting boundaries in my personal relationships with family. I distinctly remember two scenarios where I turned the corner with my mother. She asked to stay with me when I had a two-bedroom apartment near the coast. At the time, I was in the midst of finishing my master’s program and told her I needed calm and quiet. I said, “You can stay with me if you can promise not to yell at me while you are here.” She replied, “Never mind, I’ll stay at a hotel.” 

About a year later, I attended a family wedding, and I agreed to share a hotel room with my mother. On the second day of that tri,p I spent the day alone with my mother. The majority of that day, as I drove us sightseeing, my mother’s behavior was abysmal. She was irritable, critical, and yelled often. I felt totally depleted and unhappy all day. That night we were supposed to attend a family dinner, and I suddenly realized that I could just pack my bags and go home early — and so I did. When I went to say goodbye to my mother in the hotel lobby, she said, “Why are your bags packed?” I explained that I could not tolerate the yelling and arguing and that I did not anticipate things getting better, so it was best for me to leave. As I drove away, I felt so free and proud of myself for setting boundaries.

“I suddenly realized that I could just pack my bags and go home early — and so I did.”

My inner crone also arrived while my mother was dying. My mom had been dealing with health issues for a few years, and in the summer of 2022, she went downhill very quickly. I decided to stay at her apartment after she was released from the hospital in July. That was the last month that she was alive. My large family had many opinions and issues regarding making decisions for my mother. I didn’t sleep much that month, and one afternoon, while speaking to the hospice nurses, I seemed impatient to my sisters. So, they asked to speak to me alone and attempted to talk me out of staying at my mother’s apartment. They said I could stay at one of their homes instead. I said, “No. I’m not going anywhere. I want my quiet time with Mom in the evening, that is when we listen to guided meditations.” I remember one of my sisters said she felt offended. I didn’t give a damn. They tried to push me out. I said no. I also told them that I was channeling Mom’s assertive energy.

Thank you, inner crone.

I utilized my inner crone when planning my mom’s funeral with my four siblings as well. We all decided we wanted to speak for the eulogy during the Catholic mass for my mother. When we met with the funeral director, he told us that the Catholic Church in that diocese only allowed a five-minute eulogy. We were all surprised and wondered how all five of us could speak for only five minutes. I excused myself to go to the restroom, and when I returned a few minutes later, my four siblings said they decided that the priest would do the eulogy and we would speak at the reception. I said, “No, I want to speak at the funeral. I am digging my heels in about this.” My siblings began questioning me and putting me on the defensive. I said, “I want to honor our mother and speak about her. We are paying the church a fee, and they can’t tell us how long the eulogy is. What are they going to do? Play some music like on the Oscars and make us get off the altar?” I suggested we ask the priest about this five-minute eulogy rule, and we did. He said we could speak as long as we wanted. We all ended up speaking, and it was beautiful.

“I said, ‘No, I want to speak at the funeral. I am digging my heels in about this.’”

Thank you, inner crone.

In the last five years, my taste in men has improved significantly because my inner crone bloomed when I reached the age of 50. I am currently in a loving relationship with a man who accepts me and loves me just the way I am — even when my inner crone gets a bit cantankerous.

Historically, my romantic relationships with men have brought me more pain than happiness. I allowed and tolerated less than I deserved. I’ve dated all types of men from various backgrounds, and, unfortunately, many of them were critical, emotionally unavailable, inconsistent, or had substance abuse issues. In the past, I did not know my worth, and this resulted in many dysfunctional relationships. But my inner crone did rise up on several occasions, in the form of deep intuition and feelings of panic, saving me from marrying the wrong men. I have never been married (thank goodness) or had children, but I have no regrets. I actually feel grateful that I listened to my inner voice, and my single life has afforded me lots of freedom to explore and evolve.

“My inner crone did rise up on several occasions, in the form of deep intuition and feelings of panic, saving me from marrying the wrong men.”

Thank you, inner crone.

I am currently enlisting my inner crone’s wisdom in making decisions regarding my career/life path. I have worked as a special education teacher for 12 years with students of varying disabilities, including nonverbal with autism, intellectual disability, emotional disturbance, ADHD, chromosome disorders, and orthopedically impaired. They were all fascinating to work with, and I loved observing them and finding creative ways to assist them in reaching their goals.

Special education is very fulfilling work, but it’s also very physically and mentally taxing. In the last 10 years, I have suffered two concussions, whiplash, a pelvic contusion, bites, scratches, and worse. I’ve dodged many thrown objects, including iPads. All of those injuries were painful, but the worst pain inflicted on me was the bureaucratic educational system. It’s a system that fails to protect me and my students. That fails to adequately train and staff classrooms. That fails to provide curriculum, materials, and, in many cases, basic safety. In some ways, it’s the perfect job for me because I am a strong advocate, but the system doesn’t like the squeaky wheel, and it wants me to be quiet and just cope. 

I can no longer ignore the toll this job has taken on me — in the last few years, the stress has resulted in esophageal and stomach ulcers, PTSD, sleep issues, SIBO, and increased joint and muscle pain. I accepted the trauma — I thought I left it at work. Not true. All of it affected every aspect of my life. Some days after work, I couldn’t handle talking to anyone or hearing anything. Stepping into a grocery store was too much stimulation. 

I was recently injured at work, and I am on leave from teaching. I am facing important decisions that may include walking away from a profession that has both fulfilled and diminished me. I can no longer tolerate a work environment that feels like surviving rather than thriving.

“My inner crone has enabled me to acknowledge that I’ve hit my limit.”

Navigating uncertainty is very challenging. I feel guilt and sadness about leaving special education, but mostly I feel relief.

My inner crone has enabled me to acknowledge that I’ve hit my limit. At age 55, I need to protect and radically care for myself and forge ahead on a new path.

Thank you, inner crone.

Stefanie Vallejo Monahan is a special education teacher in San Luis Obispo County, CA. She has a BA in Journalism and a MA in Special Education. She enjoys spending time in nature, travel, organic foods and creative endeavors. She is the proud aunt of 6 nieces and 3 nephews.