Another Year Older, Still Becoming: A Love Letter to the Woman I Am

Today, I turn 49. My last year in my forties.

Am I wiser? Absolutely.

More patient? Let's not get carried away.

Have I figured out this whole life thing? Not even close.

But I have learned that a fabulous outfit, a good cup of coffee, and a healthy sense of humor can get you through quite a lot.

I honestly thought I might feel a little sad about entering the final year of my forties. Maybe nostalgic. Maybe slightly offended that fifty is standing just around the corner, waving at me like an overly enthusiastic neighbor.

But here's the funny thing. I'm not sad. I'm excited.

Not because I've checked every box, accomplished every goal, or become the woman I once imagined I'd be at this age.

Quite the opposite.

I'm excited because I feel like I'm standing at the beginning of something new. I'm moving toward a future I've worked incredibly hard to create. And for someone who once wasn't expected to have much of a future, that's a pretty extraordinary feeling.

You Can No Longer Put an Expiration Date on My Life

There was a time when doctors told me I might not live to see thirty.

Then forty.

Now here I am, celebrating forty-nine, with more dreams, ideas, and plans than I can possibly fit into one notebook. Apparently, nobody informed my ambition that it was supposed to have an expiration date. And thank goodness for that.

I understand that medicine deals in statistics, probabilities, and predictions. Those conversations are sometimes necessary, even when they're incredibly difficult to hear.

But I am more than a statistic.

My life is more than a prediction someone made years ago.

And after spending so much of my life hearing about what might happen, how long I might have, or what my future might look like, I've decided something.

You can no longer put an expiration date on my life.

Not because I believe I'm invincible.

Not because I think life comes with guarantees.

But because I refuse to spend the life I have treating someone else's prediction as the boundary of what's possible.

For years, so much of my existence revolved around surviving. Another appointment. Another diagnosis. Another unexpected detour. And somewhere along the way, I realized something that changed how I looked at everything.

I was so focused on surviving, I didn't recognize I was living.

My friends, that's a realization that will stop you in your tracks. Because life doesn't wait until everything is perfect. It happens while we're making dinner, laughing at something ridiculous, walking along the beach, or sharing a quiet moment with someone we love. It happens in the ordinary moments we sometimes overlook while waiting for something extraordinary.

And I don't want to miss those moments anymore.

I'm Not Counting Down to Fifty

People have already started mentioning the big five-oh.

And my response?

Fabulous and Fifty!

Obviously.

But I'm not spending this year counting down to another birthday. I've had enough countdowns in my lifetime. Numbers can mean something very different when you've spent years hearing them attached to your life expectancy.

Thirty. Forty. Another five years. Another milestone.

I'm grateful to be here, but I don't want to live as though every birthday is another finish line I have to cross. I want to enjoy being forty-nine. Not because it's the last year of a decade, but because it's the year I'm living right now. I'm not rushing toward fifty, and I'm certainly not mourning forty-nine. I'm too busy enjoying the present.

And if someone asks me where I see myself in five years?

Bitch, please. Some mornings I haven't even decided what I'm wearing in five minutes.

Why must we always have a perfectly organized plan for a life that has repeatedly shown us it doesn't follow one?

I have dreams. Big ones.

I'm building a creative life that excites me. I'm finding new ways to share my voice, tell stories, connect with women, and pursue the opportunities I've worked so hard to create.

But I don't want to become so consumed with building that future that I forget to enjoy the life happening around me.

Work a little. Laugh a lot. Live even more.

That sounds like a pretty fabulous plan to me.

I'm Still Becoming, Even on the Hard Days

I wish I could tell you that at forty-nine, I've made peace with everything life has thrown my way. But my friends, that would be a load of bullshit. I'm still working through my trauma. Every single day. Some days, I feel strong and confident. Other days, something unexpected can bring back a memory, an emotion, or a part of my past I thought I'd already worked through.

Healing isn't nearly as tidy as those inspirational quotes on social media would have us believe. Wouldn't that be convenient?

A little self-reflection, a bubble bath, a positive affirmation, and suddenly you're healed!

Bitch, please.

But something has changed in the way I see my experiences.

I've begun to accept that without some of the most difficult chapters of my life, I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I wouldn't have the same understanding of what it means to struggle silently. I might not have become the woman who speaks so passionately about mental health awareness, who believes in the importance of honest conversations, or who wants other women to know they don't have to pretend they're okay. And I wouldn't have discovered certain strengths within myself that I never knew existed.

That doesn't mean I'm grateful for the trauma. It doesn't mean I would choose to experience it again. And it certainly doesn't mean I've finished healing.

It simply means I'm learning to acknowledge what those experiences have taught me without allowing them to dictate how I live the rest of my life.

My trauma is part of my story. It is not the entirety of who I am.

And perhaps that's one of the greatest lessons I'm carrying into forty-nine.

I can be strong and still have difficult days.

I can be happy and still be healing.

I can look forward to my future without pretending my past no longer affects me.

And I can love the woman I am today, even while she's still figuring some things out.

Don't become so focused on the woman you're becoming that you forget to love the woman you already are.

Because she deserves that love, too. Especially on the hard days.

Here's to the Life Happening Right Now

So what do I want for my birthday?

More laughter that leaves my stomach hurting.

More adventures with my husband, including the ones that aren't planned.

More time with people who make ordinary days feel special.

More moments when I stop what I'm doing long enough to appreciate the sun on my face, the sound of the ocean, or the simple pleasure of being exactly where I am.

I want to keep writing, creating, speaking, dreaming, and discovering what this next chapter might hold.

But I also want to be present enough to enjoy it.

I don't need to know what the next decade will bring.

I don't need to map out every milestone.

And I certainly don't need to prove that my life has been worthwhile simply because I've reached another birthday.

My life is worthwhile because I'm living it.

So today, I'm not making a list of everything I haven't accomplished.

I'm not mourning the years behind me or worrying about the number ahead.

I'm celebrating the woman I am.

The woman I was.

And the woman I'm still becoming.

All three deserve a little love.

And maybe a fabulous birthday outfit.

Because some things are simply nonnegotiable.

Here's to forty-nine.

To living without an expiration date.

To dreaming without a deadline.

To loving the life I have instead of waiting for the life I think I should have.

And to another year of being a little wiser, a little louder, and a whole lot more unapologetically myself.

Still becoming. Still laughing. Still sassy, classy, and a bit bad-assy.

And when fifty finally comes knocking?

I'll be fabulous.

With love, laughter, and a little fire,

Fab 💙🔥