Aging is the goal

Let’s get one thing straight, darling — aging isn’t something to dread. It’s the dang goal.

I’ll never forget the morning I turned 52. I swung my legs outta bed, planted both feet on the floor, and BOOM — there she was in my heart: my first mother-in-law, Judy. She passed at 51 from colon cancer, and let me tell you, that woman was iconic. We’re talkin’ tall, gorgeous, brainy, magnetic — she could walk into a room and make everyone sit up straighter just by existing.

And there I was, a year older than she ever got to be. That hit me like a cosmic hug and a gentle slap all at once.

Right then and there, I flipped the script in my head about aging. No more “ugh, I’m getting old.” Nope. From that day on, every wrinkle, every grey hair, every birthday candle became a badge of honour. Judy would’ve owned her aging journey with sparkle and sass. She’d want crow’s feet from laughing too much, arms strong enough to rock her grandbabies, and a front-row seat to all the beautiful chaos of life.

I loved Judy like my own mama — and let me tell ya, I’ve missed that woman every single day since she left this earth.

But flipping the narrative about aging? That changed everything for me. It helped me hug my own years a little tighter. Because, let’s be real — too many beautiful souls don’t get the chance to grow old. And that? That’s the real tragedy. Aging isn’t a curse — it’s a privilege. Sure, your knees might sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies, and yeah, sometimes you forget why you walked into a room… but darling, the fact that you’re here — living, breathing, dreaming — that’s the real magic.

Now I’m staring down the fabulous five-five, and let me tell you, every time I see that number, I do a double take. Like, who is she talking about?! Surely not me! I don’t feel 55. My hubby, my babies, and my ride-or-dies will tell you — I sure don’t act 55. But guess what? I am 55. And I’m damn proud of it.

I want to be 55. I want to show up for this wild ride called life. I want to build my fashion empire, cheer my three amazing kiddos on from the sidelines of life, jet-set around the world with my man, and become that gloriously kooky older lady — tattooed, wrapped in pearls and boho caftans, bustin’ moves in the kitchen at 6 a.m. with a coffee in hand.

Because let me tell you, aging is a straight-up gift with a glittery bow. I’m more confident at 55 than I ever was at 25. Life’s tossed me around, sure — twists, turns, heartbreak, joy, chaos — but that’s just the female saga, isn’t it? Every woman I know has danced through storms and found her rhythm again. We don’t just survive — we thrive.

So as I prep for this milestone birthday, I look back on my rollercoaster life and think: “Girl, you crushed it.”