Still Dreaming, Still Becoming
Notes from a Threshold. On Turning 50
Today, I am three days away from being 50.
I’ve taken the week off work and carved out nine glorious days to sit under flowering trees, watch sunsets over water, and pour my reflections and dreams into my journal as often as I can.
Lately, I've been thinking about what it means to be 50—and proud —in a society that's still pretty ageist. People often say, “You don’t look your age,” and I say thank you. But I’m not shy about telling people my age.
There’s a version of me twenty years from now who will probably laugh at how young I still am. And there’s a younger me, twenty years back, who had all kinds of ideas about who I was supposed to be by now.
At 30, the future felt endless. I thought there would always be time. But midlife brings a different kind of clarity: you realize time is precious, and it doesn’t stretch on forever.
What’s surprised me most is how fiercely I have to protect my capacity to dream. There are all kinds of voices—internal and external—that whisper, "Just settle. Play it safe. Dreams are for the young."
I’m here to tell you: Not true. Not even close.
At 50, I’m still dreaming.
I’m still becoming.
And I hope I always will be.
When I look back, I’m proud of what I’ve lived. Not just the degrees earned, the places travelled, or the businesses built—but of the deeper things that remain:
The love that’s grown stronger over time.
The friendships that have carried me across so many thresholds.
How I’ve learned to soften toward myself.
The way the magnolia trees bloom and the birds leap joyfully from branch to branch—and how there are never-ending examples of beauty, awe and wonder in this world.
I laughed at myself earlier this week because I thought I might write a “50 Lessons in 50 Years” letter. I still could—(let me know if you’d want that)—but the truth is, today, I only want to say one thing:
I am grateful.
For every ordinary, extraordinary day I get to be here.
For the dreams still unfolding.
For the life I’m still walking myself toward.
Wherever you are on your own journey, may you never stop dreaming, either. The best dreams don’t have expiration dates. They just keep calling us home.
