Hello 50: A Milestone of Grace, Growth, and Gratitude

Some people say that turning 50 is over the hill - but let me tell you, the view from here is fabulous. 

I just celebrated my 50th birthday in the sunshine state - Florida - the same place where my story began. Talk about full circle! There's something poetic about dancing into a new decade where I entered this wild, beautiful, unpredictable thing called life. And let's be real: what better place to mark a milestone than where palm trees sway, drinks come with tiny umbrellas and humidity gives your hair a personality of its own? 

I'm still standing - slightly stitched, moisturized, and rocking this new decade like it's nobody's business.

Fifty has brought me clarity. It's a powerful feeling to know what you want, what you no longer need, and who you are at your core. I've released the pressure to please, and the weight of comparison. I've embraced joy, rest, boundaries, and laughter - especially the kind that makes your stomach hurt and your cheeks sore. 

In the recent months leading up to this milestone, I had an appendectomy (what does an appendix really do anyways?), hysterectomy (bye, uterus!), managing psoriasis flairs (because of course my skin wanted a say in things), dealing with those pesky hot flashes (does anyone have a fan?)  and am about to have my arm operated on. I mean, who says that you can’t be a little broken and still be a whole vibe?

Yet, through it all, I'm still standing - slightly stitched, moisturized, and rocking this new decade like it's nobody's business. I'm wiser, bolder, and less afraid to say no (or yes, depending on the day and the shoe sale). I've stopped apologizing for taking up space and instead, I'm making room for everything that sets my soul on fire. This includes my family, career, and even my newest business venture. That is perhaps the bravest part, betting on me. At 50, I am stepping into entrepreneurship, starting my own business, with nothing but faith, experience, and a fire in my belly. I refuse to wind down, I am rising up. 

To everyone wondering what 50 feels like: it feels like freedom with a side of sarcasm. It feels like loving your life - even the messy, unfiltered parts. It feels like dancing barefoot, celebrating your scars, and knowing that deep down that the best is yet to come. 

Turning 50 was the bravest that I have ever felt - standing in my truth, scars, and all, with nothing to prove and everything to embrace. 

The Power of Support: Why Women in the Workforce Still Need Community.

You’ve likely heard the phrase, “Empowered women empower women.”

But here’s the truth: even empowered women still need support. They need real community. They need safe spaces where they can grow, be seen, and be reminded that they are not doing it all alone.

At Brave Women Project, we talk a lot about intentional action. About doing one brave thing every day. Consciously, with personal accountability. But what we also know is that bravery doesn't exist in a vacuum. It thrives in a community … a community like ours.

Right now, women in the workforce are navigating a lot.

Leadership roles are increasing, but so is burnout.

Flexibility is improving in some companies, but equity is still uneven.

There's more talk about wellness, but mental health challenges remain on the rise.

We’re making progress, but we’re not done yet.

We create real opportunities for growth, connection, and leadership.

That’s why we're building a network where women at every stage - executives, entrepreneurs, returners, newcomers, and rising leaders - can come together to learn, grow, and elevate one another.

Whether it's through CAYA conversations, Pause for Positivity sessions, Diamond Dinners, or our new corporate memberships, we are committed to helping women evolve in every area of life and work. We create real opportunities for growth, connection, and leadership.

So, if you’ve been looking for your people, your place, or your push forward, welcome to BWP. You belong here.

Let’s keep doing brave things … together.

The Sisterhood of Sharing: Why Your Story Could Be Someone Else’s Survival Guide

There’s something sacred about sitting in a space where you don’t have to pretend, where you can show up exactly as you are and be met with empathy, encouragement, and zero judgment. That’s what happened at our most recent BWP CAYA – Come as You Are virtual lunch.

It wasn’t just another Zoom call. It was a circle of women holding space for each other’s real, raw, and often heavy moments - grief, struggle, overwhelm, uncertainty.

We talked about losing loved ones; how the pain lingers, how it resurfaces in waves. We had members share stories about their losses, and an impending loss. And you know what happened? We listened. We grieved right along with them. We made sure they had the space to share their deep emotions.

We offered support to a woman navigating both a personal and professional storm. And what did she receive? Not advice. Not platitudes. But presence. Compassion. A reminder that she wasn’t alone, that she didn’t have to have it all figured out to be worthy of support.

It’s important for me to say that this is not a one-time thing. 

This sort of support has been happening at CAYA since the beginning. Consistently. Constantly. Confidentially. This is a page from BWP’s journey - every month for the past 4 years.

These are the moments that remind me:

Your story … yes, yours … might be the lifeline someone else needs.

When we share our stories, we normalize the messy middle. We give language to emotions others haven’t found words for yet. We remind each other that healing isn’t linear, that strength can look like tears, and that bravery is often just showing up.

That’s the power of sisterhood. It’s not about having identical journeys. It’s about walking side by side, lighting the path for one another with our lived experiences.

So, if you’re reading this and wondering whether your story matters, let me assure you: it does.

And if you’re craving this kind of space, a place where you can come as you are and be met with love, join us at the next CAYA lunch. Bring your laughter, your tears, your questions, your uncertainty. We’ll be there, holding space, reminding each other of our strength.

Because in this sisterhood, sharing isn’t oversharing.

It’s healing. It’s mentoring. It’s lifesaving. It’s necessary.