50 and Becoming: How I’m Claiming Peace, Power, and a New Way to Live

A Birthday at the Edge of Then and Now

Last week, I celebrated my 50th birthday in a beach house with my husband, my two sons (22 and 19), and my 12-year-old daughter. It was the same stretch of sand I used to visit as a teenager—back when my best friend and I would bake in the sun and laugh until it hurt. Returning to that beach felt like weaving together three timelines: honoring the past, being fully present, and dreaming ahead.

I found a piece of cornflower blue sea glass. Watched humpback whales breaching on the horizon. Let the foamy ocean pull me into playful surrender. I saw the sun and moon shimmer on the water’s surface, and fireworks light up the night sky. I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of sunlight while the waves broke steadily in the background. It was pure bliss.

Reflecting on 50: Wisdom Meets Hope

Each morning, I read and reflected on the wide-open deck, wrapped in sunlight and birdsong. I let the number 50 roll around on my tongue like a new word—strange, bold, unfamiliar. It tasted like bitter, hard-earned wisdom coated in sweet, persistent hope.

Does it get better or worse from here?

I thought of my teenage self on this very beach, believing she knew everything, with a red carpet of possibility unrolling in front of her. Now I stand in the same place, under the same sun, in a different body—older, rounder, stronger. I don’t know how much time I have left, but I know this: I want to be fully here for it.

Letting Go of the Old Stories

In my early forties, I was drinking too much and neglecting myself. Now, I feel healthier, more whole, more optimistic. I’ve stopped letting old narratives play on repeat in my head. I’ve released the mental soundtracks that kept me stuck. I’m learning to live in the now, to take care of myself not out of obligation, but out of reverence.

My teenage self had drive and heart—but she was taught to play small. She didn’t know how to claim her space, her voice, or her peace. She gave things away freely, borrowed confidence she didn’t yet have, and measured her worth by what others returned. But now, I see clearly: the most significant things in life cannot be borrowed. They must be born from within—nurtured, protected, and fought for.

Claiming What Matters Most

Chapter 50 is about claiming.
Releasing the scorecard—it only holds the past.
Claiming each day as a fresh invitation to be here.
To show up.
To stay open.

Because I want to be here. Truly. For all of it.

I’m not going to keep questioning the timelines or outcomes. The job I thought I deserved and didn’t get. The children’s picture book stories I pour my heart into, only to receive rejections or silence. Are these walls or invitations? Mountains or mirrors?

The truth is, it doesn’t get easier. But if we stay open-hearted, we become more polished, more resilient. We keep climbing. We keep claiming.

The Beauty That Shines From Within

And then, one day, you look in the mirror and you no longer search for youth. Instead, you recognize a different kind of beauty—one born from persistence, compassion, courage. The kind that doesn’t just bless the self, but spills outward to bless others.

It glows like sunlight on the water. Like fireworks in the sky.

And it is a beauty forged in courage and grace—the kind that doesn’t fade, only deepens.

–-Love and Light