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On August 28th, I turn 50. That number feels big, not because I’m afraid of getting older, but because it carries weight. It’s half a century of surviving, stumbling, rebuilding, and growing. It’s five decades of living through struggles I never imagined I’d face and blessings I never thought I deserved.

The Year I Was Born

In August of 1975, the world looked very different. The Vietnam War had just ended a few months earlier, the country was trying to heal after Watergate, and Gerald Ford was President. Gas cost 57 cents a gallon, disco was lighting up the dance floor, and families were sitting around their TVs watching Happy Days.

Technology was just taking its first steps toward the future – Microsoft had been founded that same year. The world was shifting, reinventing itself, much like I would end up doing again and again in my own life.

The Life I’ve Lived So Far

My life has been far from easy. I’ve endured heartbreak, betrayal, incarceration, and seasons of darkness so deep that survival felt impossible. I’ve wrestled with loss, guilt, and the kind of pain that leaves marks you don’t always see on the surface.

But I’ve also experienced love, redemption, and the kind of second chances that make you believe in miracles. I’ve built a career from the ashes, poured into others who felt forgotten, and found purpose in serving. My grandsons, my daughter, my husband- these are my anchors, my reminders that even in brokenness, beauty can grow.

The truth is, I’ve lived more life than some people do in a hundred years. And while the scars remain, they are proof that I kept going.

Looking Ahead

Fifty isn’t the end. It’s the pivot point. This is the chapter where I get to decide how I want the rest of the story to unfold.

For me, that means:

Less drama, more peace. I’ve carried enough chaos. Now I want stillness, boundaries, and quiet joy.

Family first. My grandsons will grow up knowing that their Hassy showed up, loved big, and never stopped cheering them on.

Purpose without burnout. I’ve proven myself. Now I want to focus on legacy…mentoring, storytelling, and building what lasts.

Healing without shame. The past doesn’t define me. It shaped me, yes, but it does not get to dictate who I become.

If I’m blessed with 30 more years, I don’t want them to look like the last 50. I don’t want survival to be my story anymore. I want laughter, travel, rest, and joy. I want to live…not just keep breathing.

A Final Thought

As I turn 50, I realize something important: I’ve already walked through the fire. I don’t have to keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. This next chapter doesn’t have to be about struggle – it can finally be about freedom.

So here’s to 50. To the girl who was born in 1975 when the world was changing. To the woman who has carried both pain and purpose. And to the future, where the story I write from here on out is no longer about just surviving, but about truly living.