So… This Is Me
I just turned 57. I can't believe I'm sharing that. People say I don’t look my age.
And maybe I don’t. But trust me—my body lets me know exactly how old I am every single day. Knees popping like popcorn, mystery aches, and a metabolism that’s on vacation without me? Yeah, I feel it.
I’m an author of over 45 books, a wife, a mother, and a Yaya to many grandbabies—which, let’s be honest, will age you all by itself. (With love, of course. But still.)
I’ve wanted to start this blog for years. And I finally hit a point where I felt free to do it. Not for likes, not for clout—for me. And for you. For every woman navigating this unpredictable, unfiltered, hot-flashing season of life.
Pull up a chair...
I wanted this space to be humorous, raw, and relatable. Because, to be honest, I had no idea what was coming for me. None.
My mother? She told me exactly one thing about aging: “When you turn 21, your body will start having all kinds of aches and pains.”
I looked at her like a deer in headlights. “Uh… cool?”
The day I realized how much she had been holding back was the day she came to visit me. She got off the train with her hair looking like she’d been moonlighting as a traffic light—green. Like, full-on seafoam disaster.
As always, I took her straight to my hairstylist, who worked her usual magic and brought her back to a beautiful cinnamon brown. Then we drove the 40 minutes back to my house, her feeling like a new woman… until I looked in the rearview mirror.
You would’ve thought someone dumped a bucket of water over her head. Her face and hair was soaked.
My face must've said "WTH!" Because she calmly said, “Hot flash.”
That’s it. No warning. No heads up.
She had been out here sweating out professional color jobs like a fire hydrant in July—and said nothing to prepare me. And that, my friend, was when I knew... Something was coming for me.
Years later, it showed up—with night sweats, hormone crashes, unexplained blood pressure spikes, and one doctor after another looking at me like I was crazy.
The day I almost had a stroke? That was fun.
And my response to it all?
"So this is freaking 50."
And that’s where the name came from.
If you're going through it too—or wondering what’s ahead—I’m glad you're here. Let’s laugh, vent, and figure it out together.
We may not have all the answers, but we will have snacks, shapewear, and each other.
xoxo
LB
