Dear Young People…

Picture: Stock Photo. GoDaddy

~ 50 is lit AF

Ever since I can remember, I’ve always thought of people in their 50’s as old. Seriously. It wasn’t until I actually turned 50 and looked in the mirror, that I realized age 50 is when the REAL party jumps off. I grimace as I reflect on my 20’s. Silliness and haughtiness out the wazoo. It’s a wonder most of my guardian angels weren’t driven to drink excessively back then.

My 30’s were cute. A smidge more life experiences, however I had no idea I was just scratching the surface. My 40’s were sexy. It was a decade of reclaiming my baby fat and repurposing it into womanly curves. It was also a season of backsliding into some of those clingy, attachment-obsessed tendencies of my 20’s that proved to be even more useless and energy draining considering I was twice as old. Ah. There’s that word again. Old. I’m happy to write, a much needed epiphany sashayed into my consciousness on my 50th birthday not too long ago. I officially have 50 less fucks to give. Not because I have less time to live. Au contraire.

I just really, really, really value me, my energy, my time, my self-worth, all my “my’s” more than ever. People, places, and experiences are either for me or they can get bent. You’re either in or you’re out. You’re either cool in my book or you don’t exist. You either add value to my life or you get blocked, deleted, unmatched, unfriended, and/or muted. There is no gray area. And that includes the hue-challenged hairs on my head that I continue to color. So young people, don’t be so quick to write off 50 as old. I have never felt more alive, confident, sure, clear, and ready to cut through the bullshit as I do now. Namasté Lovelies ॐ