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Well y’all… apparently I’m about to be 56. On Thursday. And honestly, I’m not even sure when that happened. One minute I was trying to master the big hair of the ’80s and the next I’m putting readers on top of my head trying to remember where I left my other pair. Life moves fast, doesn’t it?

Now let’s get one thing straight—I’ve never been one of those women who dreaded the big birthdays. Thirty? Fabulous. Forty? Bring it. Fifty? Honestly, I was feeling myself. Sixty? Hmm… I’ll get back to y’all on that one.

But truthfully? I’ve earned every single one of these years. Every laugh line, every stretch mark, every gray hair (well, I don’t know if I have those and you’ll never know either). They’re all little badges from a life well-lived—and still living, thank you very much.

When I look back, I’m proud. Mostly. Occasionally those Facebook memories pop up and I find myself whispering, “Jear Desus… what was I even thinking?” A cringey dude, an overshare, maybe a questionable post. No wait. What? But that’s life. You take the good with the bad, learn what you can, and keep it movin’.

That’s the real secret, isn’t it? The lesson. Not perfection. Not staying young forever. But learning from every wild twist and turn life throws at you.

I feel pretty sure my Gramma and my Chubby would be proud of the woman I’ve become. Oh, they’d roll their eyes at me sometimes—especially when I get mouthy or add a little flair where there’s supposed to be “decorum”—but they’d be proud. Because I know how to act. I love my pearls. I know which fork to use at a fancy dinner.

But let’s be honest… where’s the fun in always being proper?

So here’s my advice as I tiptoe (in wedges) into 56:

Embrace your age.

Embrace your story.

Embrace life—even the messy, complicated, beautiful parts of it.

And most importantly… never forget where you left your readers.

XOXO, Jani

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