Reflections on Turning 50 and Learning to Embrace This Thing Called Life
I always imagined 50 as a distant milestone, some far-off point where I would have life completely figured out. I saw 50 as an age of arrival—the perfect marriage of wisdom, confidence, and grace. A blend of audacity and acceptance, where you embrace who you are without apology. Now, as I stand on this threshold, I find myself reflecting not only on what I thought life would be at 50 but on what it has been. And, let me tell you, it has been messy, beautiful, and everything in between.
Born on September 23, 1974, I came into this world in the middle of a cultural shift. Black power, women’s liberation, and a world reeling from the tail end of Vietnam. As a Black woman of Generation X, I’ve seen and experienced an extraordinary amount of change. From the fight for civil rights that my parents endured to the more personal battles we wage as individuals simply trying to be seen and heard. All of these experiences have shaped me and sharpened my understanding of what it means to age with intention.
The Gift of Perspective
One of the most beautiful things about aging—something I didn’t appreciate in my twenties and thirties—is the gift of perspective. Turning 50 doesn’t mean I have all the answers, but it means I have the grace to realize that I don’t need them all. At this stage, I’m far more comfortable with the unknown. I trust the process of growth, knowing that every step, every misstep, and every leap of faith has been essential to shaping the woman I’ve become.
In these past 50 years, I’ve learned that resilience is a muscle you build over time. Life has thrown its fair share of punches, but I've learned how to roll with them. Loss, grief, disappointment—they've all been part of my journey. But so has joy, triumph, and love. There’s power in allowing yourself to be vulnerable, in facing adversity head-on, and in finding strength you didn’t even know you had.
Embracing the Audacity of 50
Turning 50, I think I now know what it means to live authentically. I can’t help but think about the messages I absorbed growing up—especially as a Black girl in America. Messages that said we were supposed to be strong, resilient, and quiet, even when the world gave us every reason to scream. I learned early on that my value wasn’t always seen, my voice wasn’t always heard, and my presence wasn’t always respected. But I also learned how to push through and how to reclaim my space in rooms where I was told I didn’t belong. If there’s one thing I’ve carried into this new chapter, it’s that being unapologetically you is an act of resistance. And at 50, I’ve earned the right to be as audacious as I want to be.
Over the past five decades, I’ve learned that healing is a lifelong process, and there is no rush to the finish line. You can't bypass the pain, the grief, or the trauma. You can't sweep it under the rug and expect to find joy on the other side. I know because I tried. I learned that embracing the messy parts of life—the disappointments, the heartbreak, the losses—has allowed me to find hope. And without hope, there can be no real joy. Fifty is the age where I can stand tall in that truth, finally free from the need to appear flawless or hold it all together.
As I reflect on this moment, I realize that my journey has been defined by resilience, yes, but also by the willingness to reinvent myself when necessary. I’m proud of the pivots I’ve made, both personally and professionally. From higher education to journalism to public policy, I’ve worn many hats, and I’ve never been afraid to step into new spaces, even when it felt uncomfortable. At 50, I’m more certain than ever that growth only happens when you push past your limits and trust in your own power.
I remember being told—implicitly and explicitly—that as a Black woman, I needed to shrink myself to fit the world’s comfort zones. But now, at 50, I stand taller, wider, and louder than ever before. I’ve found my voice, and I intend to use it, even when the world isn’t ready to listen. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned over these years, it’s that the world rarely gives us permission to exist fully. We have to take that space for ourselves.
Gratitude for the Journey
This birthday also brings a sense of gratitude. Not the fluffy, Instagram-quote kind, but a deep, soul-stirring gratitude. I’m grateful for the people who have loved me, especially when I couldn’t love myself. I’m grateful for the lessons that came from the hardest moments. I’m grateful for the dreams that didn’t work out, and the ones I’m still chasing. Because even at 50, I know there’s so much more to do, to learn, to be.
If there’s anything I want to leave behind as I step into this next decade, it’s the fear of judgment and the weight of other people’s expectations. Fifty is the perfect age to stop giving a damn about what anyone else thinks. It’s the age where your joy becomes a non-negotiable, your peace sacred. It’s the age where you know that being crazy beautiful means being wildly, imperfectly, wonderfully you.
Reflecting on half a century of life, what strikes me most is the deep gratitude I feel for the journey. Life didn’t always unfold as I planned, but in many ways, it turned out every way it was supposed to. I didn’t do all the things, but I dreamed all the dreams.
There’s a certain audacity that I now carry with me. It’s the audacity to speak my truth even when my voice shakes. It’s the audacity to pursue dreams that society may have told me were no longer available to me because of my age, gender, or race. It’s the audacity to be unapologetically me. I no longer feel the need to fit into anyone’s expectations or timelines. I’ve outgrown the idea that I need to prove anything to anyone other than myself. So here’s to the next chapter—because if the last 50 years have taught me anything, it’s that I’m just getting started. And that, my friends, is the freedom that comes with age.
So, here’s to 50. Here’s to all the women who paved the way for me, and to those who walk beside me. Here’s to a life that hasn’t always been easy, but has always been worth it.
