5 lessons my have 50s have taught me (so far)

Age really does bring a bucketload of wisdom and a bushel of IDGAF.

This issue is brought to you by The Book of Boundaries. Every single one of these lessons culminates in the desire to more fiercely protect your time, energy, and peace. The Book of Boundaries has more than 130 scripts to help you get there. Order your copy today (in paperback, ebook, or audiobook)—and gift one to a friend approaching their 50s, so they can start practicing with you.

I became an Official Older Person almost two years ago. Along with my 50s also came The Change, and honestly, that alone has been a lot. But turning 50 while feeling my uterus rust wasn’t as hard or weird as I thought it would be. In fact, I kind of dug it. The pressure is off! I’m not as noticed, which means I feel less judged, which means I feel more free. I consider it one step closer to my 70s, where I’m going to be that eccentric old lady squatting in the gym in a color-coordinated track suit, giant glasses, and white Chuck Taylors. I CANNOT WAIT.

I also discovered that some lessons only arrive with time and experience—and 50 was when they finally clicked for me. If you’ve been dreading the big 5-0, maybe this preview will change your perspective. And if you’re already in your 50s, know that these shifts land in their own way, on their own timeline. But if you’ve simply been waiting for someone else to say it, this is your permission slip.

Here are 5 lessons you have to look forward to in your 50s.

Lesson #1: You can do it any way you want

The way my husband and I handle finances is not what most experts recommend. The relationship I have with God is deeply personal, and I will accept no feedback on it. The way I run my business is the furthest thing from profit-driven, and is why I have yet to take on investors. “Whole30 could be so much bigger,” they’ve told me. “You could be so much bigger.” I, and I cannot stress this enough, DGAF.

There are proven ways to do things. They can be good places to start, and even good places to live. But don’t let anyone tell you that you have to do anything a certain way. You can do it any way you want. Your marriage, life choices, entrepreneurship, co-parenting, routines, finances… Even if nobody else does it this way. Even if everyone else says, “That will never work.” If it works for you and isn’t hurting anyone else—you’re done. Of course, you won’t always know what’s best right away, in which case…

Lesson #2: Get comfy saying, “I don’t know”

I’ve spent plenty of time feeling like an imposter. I pretended to care about the things my friends cared about because I wanted them to like me. I pretended to know more than I did at work so people thought I was worthy of the role. I pretended to want the same things my romantic partner did because that’s what society told me I should want. I pretended to show up perfectly because I thought that would make people admire me.

I thought knowing it all (or pretending I did) was the key to confidence and success. Turns out, saying “I don’t know” is the real flex. And it felt so much better. The moment I started saying, “I don’t like that,” “that’s not my skill set,” “it’s not going well,” and “I need help,” all of that imposter syndrome fell away. I began to feel comfortable in my own skin, and that helped me show up more confidently. Which ties into #3…

Lesson #3: I really don’t care what you think

“I love her. She’s seems like a bitch. She’s successful. Is she even still relevant? She’s got it all figured out. She’s the worst and I hate her.” I’ve heard all of this and then some. In earlier days, I would allow the positive comments to boost my self-image, while the negative comments sent me spiraling. At this point, I really don’t give a doody either way. It’s not that I won’t accept feedback. I do, from people I admire, people I love, people I trust, and people who I know have my best interest at heart. (I will also accept feedback from a total stranger if I do something hurtful—that’s in my integrity.)

But as for what you think of me as a person, random stranger on the internet? Don’t care, not my business, byeee. I will never make everybody happy, and it would be weird if everybody liked me, because I certainly don’t like a lot of people. I accept that many, many people will not be a fan of me. I’m cool with that, because…

Lesson #4: I know who I am

As everyone does, I spent my 20s and 30s trying on lives (and to some degree, personalities) to see what fit. Did I want to have a career, run my own business, or go back to school? Did I want to get married, have a baby, neither, or both? Did I know what I was good at, what I liked, or what I actually wanted, outside of other people’s expectations? It took a long time to settle into who “I” was—and there were more than a few setbacks along the way.

It took five decades of lived experience before I could confidently say, “I know exactly who I am, and I own it—the good qualities, the faults, and everything in between.” It wasn’t easy, and it certainly wasn’t linear. But looking back, I can see all of it mattered, because…

Lesson #5: I really like me

I spent a lot of time in my 20s, 30s and even 40s wondering what’s wrong with me. I don’t have as many friends as everyone else seems to. I don’t need to connect as much as other people want to. I never cared about building my business the way prospective investors told me I should. I’d rather not be the center of attention—I’m happiest in the background. (Where nobody talks to me… are you sensing a theme here?) And I definitely don’t want to be famous.

I spent years trying to “fix” this. In my 50s, I no longer think there’s anything to fix. In fact, I really like who I turned out to be. I flex where needed to keep my relationships healthy, but not at my own expense. I keep working on the things I want to do better—not because someone thinks I should, but because I want to. And 99.9% of the time, I’m happy, confident, and comfortable with who I am, without pretense.

50 is the new… 50

I hate those “50 is the new 30” ads. I’m not 30, even if Botox gives me the forehead of a much younger woman. The years leading up to 50 were hard-fought, but every lesson learned was necessary to bring this level of clarity and confidence. There is a sense of anonymity in my 50s that I’ve never experienced, but it doesn’t make me feel erased or invisible… it makes me feel free.

As always, everything in its own time—but I can’t help but feel that my time is now. In celebration, today, the comments are open to all.

XO, MU