So today I have been alive for half century. I am not sure where that time went.
As I tiptoe up to my 50th birthday, I keep catching myself pausing in doorways, mug of tea in hand, thinking: How did I get here so quickly — and yet so slowly?
Fifty feels like a strange mix of milestone and homecoming. Not dramatic fireworks, more like the warm glow of a table lamp you finally realise has been guiding you all along. I don’t feel “old”; I feel lived in — like a much-loved house on the Isle of Wight that creaks in places, but is full of stories, laughter, and light pouring in through imperfect windows.
When I look back, I see chapters that have shaped me deeply:
Years of social work that stretched my heart, sharpened my compassion, and taught me to listen for the voice of the child beneath the noise of adult chaos.
Seasons of creativity — scrapbooking, photography, crafting — where I learned that making something beautiful doesn’t have to be fancy to be meaningful.
Quiet hours in nature: watching birds, chasing waterfalls, breathing in sea air, and feeling God’s presence in the small, everyday miracles.
A life woven with music — a bit of 1950s rock ’n’ roll spirit humming in the background — reminding me that joy, rhythm, and play still matter.
And woven through it all is my family: my husband beside me, our faithful dog at our feet, and countless cups of Diet Coke shared with friends, laughter, and prayer.
Turning 50 isn’t about what I’ve lost; it’s about what I’ve gained:
Clearer boundaries
Softer judgement (of myself and others)
Deeper gratitude
And a calmer sense of purpose
I’m less interested now in rushing forward and more curious about slowing down — noticing the sunrise over the water, tending my home, writing, creating, and nurturing the people and places I love.
If anything, this birthday feels like crossing from “trying to build a life” into “living it on purpose.”
Fifty, I’m ready for you — gently, gratefully, and with a heart still open to wonder.
Here’s to the next chapter:
More faith, more creativity, more nature, more love — and yes, still a little rock ’n’ roll. π
