Turning 55 has been less about counting years and more about collecting wisdom. It’s a quiet kind of knowing that settles into your bones—not always loud, but deeply rooted. With each year, I’ve learned to shed what no longer fits and hold tighter to what truly matters. Here are five truths I’ve gathered along the way:

1. Your experience of me is not my identity.

For a long time, I wrestled with how I was perceived. Did I say too much? Was I too much? Or not enough? But I’ve learned that people will experience me through the lens of their own stories, wounds, and expectations. That’s not mine to carry. My identity is anchored in something far deeper and more sacred than opinions or projections.

2. Authenticity doesn’t mean bringing 100% of yourself into every space.

Sometimes, being true to yourself looks like discernment. It means knowing which parts of you are needed in the moment and which can rest. That’s not inauthentic—that’s wisdom. It’s being seasoned enough to read the room and move accordingly, without losing your center.

3. What keeps me grounded is knowing who I am—and who I am not.

I’ve learned to live from three anchors:

Know who you are in the eyes of God. Know your shadow self—love her, tend to her, but don’t let her take the lead. And just as importantly, know who you are not. We spend so much time trying to be everything for everyone. But peace comes when you stop striving to be what you were never meant to be—for others or even for yourself.

4. It’s okay to be happy. Really happy.

Joy used to feel like a guilty pleasure—especially when things weren’t perfect. But I’ve learned that joy doesn’t have to wait for life to line up just right. It can show up in the mess, in the detours, in the quiet moments. It’s okay to be really, truly happy—even when life doesn’t look like the blueprint you imagined.

5. Get to know yourself—and spend time with her.

The most important relationship in your life is the one you have with yourself. Not the version of you performing for the world, but the one you meet in stillness. Get curious about her. Sit with her. Nurture her. That’s where your power lives.

At 55, I’m not trying to prove myself anymore—I’m trying to be myself, deeply and consistently.

And that has been the most beautiful part of growing older.