As my birthday approaches at the end of the month, I find myself reflecting on what it truly means to age gracefully. I remember a time when I was all about the glam—makeup, perfectly coiffed hair, manicured nails, trendy clothes, and those fabulous high-heeled shoes. My beauty and youthful appearance were my power, a way to feel vibrant and in control.

I recall a powerful moment from a conference I attended with the Department of Housing Services. There was this remarkable young woman, a C-suite leader with a Ph.D. in social work, who dazzled everyone with her intellect. She could recite public policy and social work theories like they were nursery rhymes. I was in awe of her brilliance, but I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity. I mean, I was never that academically gifted or as strikingly tall and thin.

But here’s the kicker: while I was mesmerized by her, the older executive directors around me were anything but impressed. Their disdain was palpable, and I found myself smiling gently at her, offering silent support. I wanted her to know that she should embrace her youth and all the power that came with it. It was funny; I didn’t see her youth as a threat. Instead, I felt proud to have paved the way for women like her to rise and shine in ways my generation could only dream of.

After all, I was an executive director managing a homeless men's shelter. I had done well in my career, but I also recognized that I had more years behind me than ahead. And while I was okay with that, I still craved to look the part of a fresh, energetic woman. I relished the compliments that I didn’t look my age and even appreciated the attention from younger men who thought I was a younger "older woman."

But as time marched on, I couldn’t ignore the signs. My once-smooth hands began to wrinkle, and my face lost its youthful tightness. My posture faded as quickly as my ability to power through 10-12 hour days in those killer heels. I wasn’t ready to accept this process, even though I knew it was inevitable. It all happened so fast—one moment I was meeting colleagues for after-work cocktails, and the next, I was rushing home before dark to nestle into my recliner with a hot cup of herbal tea by candlelight.

Acceptance of aging was hard, but everything shifted when I was diagnosed with lupus in 2005. Suddenly, the days, weeks, and years brought an incredible sense of gratitude for simply being alive. Each hospital stay became a moment of calm reflection, and I began to realize that beyond youth lies wisdom, critical thinking, emotional intelligence, and the experience to avoid unnecessary pitfalls.

Before I left my vibrant career, that young C-suite woman reached out to me for a meeting. She came to my office to recruit me for a position in the C-suite—my dream come true! I had always envisioned myself in such a role, hoping to impact policy and transform how administrations serve the unhoused. But as flattered as I was, I understood my time in that front-line fight had passed. I was older, with less enthusiasm for the fray. I had become rooted in the reality of public policy politics, and my idealistic dreams had faded. However, I had a team of younger women who were ready to take the lead.

Before she left, the young executive shared something that struck me deeply. She told me she remembered how I made her feel when she first started with the agency. “You walked in like you owned the place,” she said, her eyes shining with admiration. She praised my confidence, experience, and passion for providing care and dignity to the men in the shelter and the 200+ people I supervised. It turned out I had been a mentor to her without even realizing it. She had faced jealousy and negativity from other seasoned women, yet I had offered her encouragement. Hearing this made me realize that my impact had been more significant than I had imagined.

That moment marked a pivotal shift in my mindset—from clinging desperately to youth to embracing self-acceptance and appreciating a life well-lived. Recognizing that my time on the front lines was not a defeat but an empowerment that allowed me to transition into the role of an elder who trains and mentors the new professionals ready to take on the fight. My role became one of strategy, while the younger women implemented the plans.

Aging gracefully isn’t so bad, after all. In fact, it’s a well-deserved honor to trade in those high heels for comfortable shoes, to swap out trendy outfits for cozy clothes, and to spend more time by the lake instead of in the salon. I’ve earned it, and I’m ready to embrace every moment of this beautiful journey. 

As I celebrate another year of life, I invite you to join me in welcoming the wisdom and joy that come with aging. Let’s cherish our stories, support one another, and continue to shine brightly in every stage and at every age.🥂