At 56, I bought a chateau in France. I never imagined I'd spend my midlife creating my dream home and business.

In May 2022, I found myself longing for a new life.

I had spent the last 20 years rebuilding my life after my husband’s death in the World Trade Center during the 9/11 attacks — raising a 2-year-old and 6-year-old alone, moving across the country to Seattle, writing books about grief, and rediscovering painting.

My kids had both finished college and moved on with their lives, and I was alone and free for the first time since my 20s. I felt adrift.

Then, my daughter showed me a YouTube video about a young couple with two small children renovating a chateau in France.

They reminded me of my husband and me long ago, and how we’d renovated historic houses in cities like London and Boston while raising young children. As newlyweds, we’d dreamed about one day living somewhere in Europe, maybe a small cottage in the French countryside, but it became a faraway fantasy when he was relocated to the US for work.

After watching those videos, that dream came bubbling back — and I realized now might be the perfect time to start chasing it.

I headed to France in hopes of buying a place of my own that I could turn into a retreat space for creatives

I loved the idea of renovating a property in a place I’d dreamed about living while also following my passion for art and connection. I was lonely in Seattle, and I longed to create a space abroad that inspired people to gather, reflect, dream, and start fresh.

My vague idea was to find a place where I could host creative retreats for writers and artists.

So, single and in my late 50s, I planned a trip to France to explore historic buildings for sale. Visiting historic properties while enjoying the French countryside was a perfect form of solo travel for me.

I decided to look for properties with multiple bedrooms that didn’t need overly extensive renovations, weren’t far from international transportation, and were located in an area that wouldn’t get too cold in the winter. Toulouse seemed a perfect place to start.

For three weeks, I drove over 600 miles looking at chateaux, manor houses, and farmhouses — many dilapidated, or near busy highways or in the middle of nowhere. I spoke with real-estate agents every day and veered off the road several times to peer through the gates of beautiful properties.

I returned to Seattle empty-handed, expecting that the desire to buy a chateau would have fizzled — instead, the flames were fanned. The retreat center idea became more solidly embedded in my mind, and within the year, I was back, visiting more potential properties.

At last, I stumbled upon a dilapidated manor house nestled into limestone cliffs, where the outbuildings were actual caves. After seeing it online, I convinced my real-estate agent to leave his locale and show me the property.

Château de Borie in the Lot and Garonne region in southwestern France, between Toulouse and Bordeaux, had been unoccupied for several years. It had 12 bedrooms and 12 bathrooms, and, more importantly, new septic, electrical, plumbing, and heating systems.

After viewing more than 15 properties over two separate trips, I knew having these updated essentials in place in an older building was a rare gift. I told myself the property was in a state I could manage on my own — it just needed an interior facelift and some furniture.

After a one-hour viewing, I impulsively made a low-ball offer, nearly 70,000 euros below the asking price. Within 30 minutes, we had settled on the price of 610,000 euros.

I was unable to schedule a return visit before my flight the next day, so I relied on the few photos I took to remind me what I was getting myself into.

As I moved forward with buying a property and making a business plan, I still had doubts

Back home in Seattle, I questioned my sanity as I arranged to have 50 pages of French legal documents translated.

I took out a home equity loan on my Seattle home, which, with some additional savings, would allow me to pay for the house in cash, since getting a loan in France would be extremely difficult.

To help obtain a visa, I had to create a business plan for my ill-conceived retreat idea in order to get a “real and serious business” certificate, a name I found humorous. As silly as this sounded, doing this helped me solidify my vision.

Still, I spent nights awake, now acutely aware that I would be leaving my home, my children, my life back in Seattle. How was I going to manage two houses when I often felt I could barely manage one? Could I run a business on my own? What was I thinking?

Yet, three months later, I was back in France (alongside a friend and translator) for the closing, signing what felt like a thousand pages. Later, with a bottle of Champagne in hand, I found myself — for only the second time — at that giant green front door, turning the key.

The following days and months were filled with cleaning, painting, and battling with heaving shutters during a particularly violent thunderstorm.

Eventually, the hard work paid off — and I’ve built a life I’m proud of, even if it has challenges

At my daughter’s urging, I started documenting every step of the journey on YouTube and Instagram as the “Chateau Chronicles” — it helped get the word out about my business, and over time, I built up more than 100,000 followers and subscribers across platforms.

I offered my first retreat — a sketchbook-and-yoga week for 14 people — in fall 2023, just one year after purchasing the chateau. Prices ranged from 2,900 to 3,400 euros for the week, depending on the room. It sold out almost immediately.

Attendees flew in from across North America and even Australia to sketch. Some were already artists, others were not, and the week was magical.

We stood around a table full of secondhand store (brocante) knickknacks or in the chateau garden to sketch, we visited other chateaux for cooking lessons and tasting regional wines. Even three years later, the WhatsApp group I created for the attendees is still active.

Since then, I’ve hosted many things from writing retreats to a supper club with a Michelin-trained chef. Four years later, the retreat business supports itself, earning a gross income of around 80,000 euros a year.

My goal isn’t to scale endlessly, it’s to deepen. To attract the right people, offer them something authentic, and send them home transformed.

The people who come here are often at a turning point — in their careers, identities, or relationships — and looking for a reset. The chateau has become a sanctuary for people seeking a place to land as they undergo a transformation. They usually come away with wonderful memories and a whole new group of friends.

However, running a retreat space in a historic building means there’s always something breaking or needing attention.

I market the business, manage the guest experience, develop new offerings, and oversee ongoing renovations. I’ve painted most of the interiors myself.

Even a few weeks away comes with consequences — leaking roofs, burst pipes, dead goldfish, and falling trees and rocks. I also struggle with language barriers, finding contractors and artisans, complex French bureaucracy, and geological challenges that I didn’t fully anticipate.

However, I’ve also been lucky enough to find help through volunteers and friends, both new and old. And by now, I know which windows stick, and I have a special broom for clearing away spiderwebs.

My life and business are now in France, and I’m grateful

What I thought would be a part-time venture has become my full-time life. Although it’s hard work, this place continues to inspire me and frustrate me in equal measure.

Things aren’t always easy in France, but my life here is rich with beauty, incredible food, and a continuous stream of new friends.

I thought leaving my kids in the US would be difficult — and it can be — but when they visit, I get a week or so of uninterrupted time with them, more than the dinner or two a month if we lived in the same city.

I cherish those times. I even recently hosted my daughter’s wedding at the chateau, a truly magical experience.

Reinvention, it turns out, is something I have in common with so many women in their 50s and 60s who are done apologizing for wanting a life filled with joy, depth of meaning, and beauty.

Widowhood forced me to reinvent myself, but also gave me the incredible gift of freedom to make the impulsive decisions necessary to live my best, unexpected life.