I turned 50 on September 13, and while I certainly don’t have life figured out, I have lived enough of it to know a few things.
Some lessons came gently.
Some came through heartbreak.
Some came through motherhood, marriage, divorce, work, friendship, faith, and starting over.
Some I had to learn more than once … and … some I am still learning … but here’s what I’ve learned:
You can survive something and still need time to recover from it.
Being needed is not the same thing as being loved.
You do not have to audition for love. The people who love you should not require a continuing body of evidence proving you are worthy of staying.
Competence can become a cage. Just because you can carry it does not mean it belongs to you.
Rest is not something you earn after exhaustion.
Softness and strength are not opposites. I can wear a silk dress onto a basketball court and belong in both worlds.
Take up the space. Sometimes the room will not be cleared for you. Walk into the middle anyway. People will adjust.
A rose growing through concrete is still a rose. What you had to grow through does not determine how beautifully you are allowed to bloom.
Getting curious will take you farther than getting defensive.
A change is not always an abandonment. A shift is not always a rupture.
Protecting yourself and building walls are not the same thing. I am still learning the difference.
Control can feel like safety when you have known instability. It is not the same thing.
You don't have to know how something ends before allowing yourself to enjoy how it feels right now.
Not every relationship is supposed to last forever. Some people are teachers, mirrors, bridges, and chapters.
Pay attention to patterns, not promises.
People tell you who they are in more ways than words. Listen.
You can love somebody and still decide they cannot come with you.
Forgiveness does not automatically restore access.
Boundaries work better when they are doors you control rather than walls nobody can enter.
There is no prize for being the woman who can tolerate the most.
Black women have been taught to make capability our social currency. I no longer want to confuse how much I can produce, endure, or fix with how valuable I am.
Sometimes what looks like an individual failure is actually a systems problem. Before asking “What is wrong with me?” ask what conditions produced the outcome.
Sometimes it really is you. Self-awareness requires enough courage to tell the difference.
Accountability and self-condemnation are not the same thing.
You are allowed to change your mind when you receive new information.
Being misunderstood does not always require a rebuttal. Everybody is not your audience.
Rejection is information, not identity.
Being overlooked does not make you less qualified.
Stop spending years trying to convince people to recognize what they have repeatedly demonstrated they do not value.
Some tables are not worth fighting for a seat at. Build another table. Or go eat somewhere better.
Your gifts may make sense before your title does.
The work you are called to do may not fit neatly inside the box somebody hired you for.
Knowing how systems work is a form of power. Knowing how humans move inside those systems is another.
Storytelling is not decoration. Stories shape what people believe is possible.
You do not have to shrink your intelligence to make other people comfortable.
Wisdom also means knowing when being right is less important than being effective.
Getting to the answer quickly is a gift. Learning to bring other people along with you is leadership.
Your body keeps records your résumé does not. Listen when it says enough.
Healing is not becoming the person you were before something happened. Sometimes healing is meeting the person who came after.
There are versions of me I had to become to survive who I no longer need to be. I thank them and release them.
You are allowed to grieve the childhood, marriage, career, friendship, or future you thought you were going to have.
You are also allowed to play. Adulthood does not require surrendering wonder, silliness, recess, music, dancing, or joy.
Sometimes giving your younger self what she missed looks surprisingly ordinary: playing on a playground, laughing too loudly, wearing the outfit, taking the picture.
Joy does not need to be justified by productivity.
There will always be someone who thinks you are too much. Do not build your life around their measuring cup.
Faith has looked less like having all the answers and more like trusting that the wilderness was not wasted.
Starting over is not evidence that you failed. Sometimes it is evidence that you finally listened.
Freedom is getting to choose again. Who I love. How I work. What I carry. What I believe. What I tolerate. Who gets access. Who I want to BEAcome.
Fifty is not an ending. I actually feel like I am meeting myself.
Perhaps the biggest lesson of all: my life does not have to look the way anyone else imagined it for it to be beautiful.
So here’s to 50.
To the woman I have been.
To the women I had to BEAcome.
To the girl in me who still wants to play … and … to the woman standing in the middle of the court now - soft, strong, visible, free, and no longer waiting for permission.
I’m looking forward to 50, and maybe, for the first time in a long time, I’m not just looking forward to what happens next.
I’m looking forward to me.