i love every awkward Freakin’ thing about me at 53.

Today, I turn 53.

Fifty-three.

And lately, I have had this overwhelming desire to try all the things.

And before anyone starts diagnosing me with some sort of birthday-induced existential crisis, let me stop you right there.

I don’t think this has anything to do with turning 53.

I’m not panicking about getting older. I’m not staring dramatically into the mirror, examining every wrinkle while contemplating the fleeting nature of youth. I’m not about to buy a sports car.

Mostly because I would probably curb it.

Honestly, this might be the happiest and most at peace I have felt in a very long time.

Maybe ever.

I love my life.

I love what I have created.

And even more than that, I am ridiculously excited about what might still be ahead of me.

Which is exactly why I don’t want to settle.

I Actually Really Like This Version of Me

It has taken me a long time to be able to say this without immediately following it with a joke or pointing out seventeen things I still need to work on:

I’m proud of the woman I am.

There. I said it.

At 53 years old, I’m proud of myself.

I’m proud that I put myself out there even when it scares me.

I’m proud that I try new things even when I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

I’m proud that I’ve learned to be myself instead of constantly wondering who everyone else thinks I should be.

And yes, sometimes “being myself” involves awkward conversations, tripping over things that haven’t moved in six years, changing my mind approximately 47 times, and walking into a room only to completely forget why I’m there.

She’s a work in progress.

But I like her.

Actually, I love her.

And that might be one of the biggest accomplishments of my life.

I’m Not Trying to Be an Influencer

I have absolutely no intention of becoming some social media influencer.

No offense to the influencers of the world. You do you.

But I don’t want to influence you into buying a $97 water bottle because it comes in the perfect shade of beige.

I want to influence you to love your life.

I want you to feel good about being exactly who you are.

I want you to laugh at yourself.

I want you to wear the outfit.

Take the trip.

Eat the dessert.

Start over.

Change your mind.

Try something new.

Sit outside and watch the sunset without feeling like you need to photograph it from twelve different angles first.

Although, let’s be realistic. I’m probably still taking the picture.

My goal with everything I do, this blog, thrifting, travel, the things I share online, and the stories I tell, is pretty simple.

I want people to feel happy.

Happy being themselves.

Happy with their lives.

Happy in their own skin.

Not because everything is perfect.

But because they’ve stopped waiting for perfect before allowing themselves to enjoy it.

And somewhere along the way, I realized something:

If I’m going to tell other women to live that way, I probably need to take my own advice.

Rude.

So I Tell My Story

That’s why I talk about life the way I see it as a woman over 50.

Sometimes it’s good.

Sometimes it’s uncomfortable.

Sometimes it’s confusing.

And sometimes it’s me doing something so awkward that I briefly consider moving to another state and assuming a new identity.

But it’s real.

I don’t have all the answers.

I don’t think any of us do.

What I do know is that I don’t believe we are ever completely stuck.

We may feel stuck.

We may stay somewhere longer than we should because it’s familiar.

We may convince ourselves that this is simply the life we’ve been given and we should learn to live with it.

But I don’t believe that.

I believe we can change things.

Maybe not everything. And certainly not overnight.

But we can take a step.

And then another.

We can change direction.

We can start over.

We can decide that something that once worked for us doesn’t anymore.

And we can do that as many times as necessary.

There is no rule that says you only get one chance to reinvent yourself.

Thank God, because I would have used mine up somewhere around 1994.

Maybe We’re All a Little Like Thrifted Clothing

This is probably why I see such a connection between people and thrifted clothing.

Stay with me here.

Every thrifted piece has a history.

It belonged somewhere else before it ended up on that rack.

Maybe somebody loved it.

Maybe somebody wore it once.

Maybe it sat forgotten in the back of a closet for ten years next to a bridesmaid dress and a pair of jeans they were definitely going to fit into again someday.

We don’t know.

And honestly?

It doesn’t matter.

Because its past doesn’t determine what happens next.

Neither does ours.

We all have a history.

We have things we’ve done.

Things we’ve survived.

Choices we wouldn’t make again.

Relationships we’ve outgrown.

Versions of ourselves that no longer fit.

And just because something was part of our story doesn’t mean we have to carry it forever.

Sometimes we need to let it go.

Sometimes we need to repurpose it.

Sometimes we need to look at our lives and say:

This doesn’t fit me anymore.

And then find something that does.

Where we came from matters because it helped shape us.

But it doesn’t get to decide where we’re going.

We all deserve the opportunity to create a life that fits who we are now.

I Love My Life. And I Still Want More.

Here’s the part I think people sometimes misunderstand.

Wanting more doesn’t necessarily mean you’re unhappy with what you have.

I’m incredibly grateful for my life.

I love it.

Imperfect, messy, awkward, occasionally chaotic…

I love it.

But I’m not ready to settle.

Not even close.

There are still so many places I want to see.

Things I want to learn.

Foods I want to try.

People I want to meet.

Stories I want to tell.

Things I want to create.

And probably several things I haven’t even discovered yet.

I want to keep learning.

Growing.

Exploring.

Trying.

Failing.

Laughing.

Changing my mind.

Trying again.

Is this my ADHD talking?

Maybe she has a seat at the meeting.

But no.

This is bigger than that.

This is me finally understanding that life was meant to be lived.

And that’s exactly what I intend to do.

I Want to Try All the Things

There is something about the thought of everything I haven’t experienced yet that lights a fire inside me.

Not because I’m running out of time.

Because I’m here now.

And there is so much available to us when we stop telling ourselves we’re too old, too scared, too awkward, too inexperienced, or too whatever-the-excuse-of-the-day happens to be.

Maybe I’ll try something and hate it.

Fine.

At least I’ll know.

Maybe I’ll embarrass myself.

Highly probable.

Maybe I’ll be terrible at it.

Also highly probable.

But maybe I’ll love it.

Maybe I’ll discover something that becomes part of the next chapter of my life.

How will I ever know if I don’t try?

I’m no longer interested in sitting on the sidelines of my own life because I’m worried about looking ridiculous.

Newsflash: I can look ridiculous without even trying.

Might as well have some fun while I’m at it.

Stop Counting the Sunsets

None of us knows how many sunrises or sunsets we have left.

And I’m not saying that to be depressing.

Actually, I think it’s the opposite.

I think it’s one of the best reasons to pay attention.

Why spend so much time counting how many years we’ve lived when we could be paying attention to how much life is happening inside them?

I’ve seen thousands of sunsets.

And I’ll still stop for the next one.

I’ll watch the sky change colors.

I’ll stare at it like I’ve never seen anything like it before.

I’ll probably take too many pictures.

And I will still be amazed.

Because I’ve never seen that sunset.

Not from that place.

Not on that day.

Not as the woman I am in that exact moment.

And if your response is, “You’ve seen one sunset, you’ve seen them all,” I have a suggestion.

Maybe the sunset isn’t the problem.

Maybe it’s time to change your perspective.

So, Here’s to 53

I’m not entering 53 with a list of things I should have accomplished by now.

I’m not mourning the person I used to be.

And I’m definitely not sitting quietly and behaving like a woman “my age” is supposedly expected to behave.

Whatever that means.

I’m walking into 53 incredibly grateful for the life I have built and wildly curious about the life I haven’t lived yet.

I want more adventures.

More firsts.

More laughter.

More stories.

More moments that make me stop and think, I can’t believe I actually did that.

I want to keep becoming.

Because maybe that’s the whole point.

We’re never really finished.

We’re not supposed to reach some magical age where we dust off our hands and say, “Well, that’s it. I’m done growing.”

At least I hope not.

Because I still have a lot of living to do.

So here’s to 53.

Here’s to being happy with what I have without being afraid to want more.

Here’s to changing my mind, changing direction, and changing my life whenever it needs changing.

Here’s to wearing the thrifted clothes, carrying the history without letting it define us, and finding a life that fits.

Here’s to being awkward.

Being brave.

Being curious.

Being completely and unapologetically ourselves.

And here’s to trying all the things.

Because I don’t want to count how many sunsets I’ve already seen.

I just want to make sure I’m still paying attention when the next one arrives.