Who are we?
We’ve lived a life.
We’ve loved. Maybe lost. Maybe not.
We’re mamas and sisters and daughters and in-laws and aunties and wives and ex-wives and cousins and co-workers and neighbors and volunteers and patients and caregivers and and and. We are some of these. We are all of these.
We are not definable. We are everywoman. You know us. Or you think you do.
We are unique. We will not be labeled.
Our roles in this world do not determine our identity. We are the sum of our parts. And then some.
We are chronologically at the half-way point in life. But we are not going anywhere.
We are fine wine. We are gorgeous tarnished silver. We are heirlooms, not antiques.
We are women of a certain age. We are not what our mothers were at midlife.
We are fabulous. Without question.
We are your favorite aunties. Because no matter how much we embrace our age or celebrate our lives well lived, we’re still not quite old enough to be your mother.
And don’t you forget it.