Turning 50 Did Not Suck.

Fifty is a big number, and I know many people get twisted about it. But I didn’t. Not even for a second. First, what’s the alternative? Not turning 50? I think I’d rather be 50.

We lost my beloved brother when he was only 46, and that has given me a new perspective on growing older. It is truly a gift. My Frankie would have loved the chance to be 50, so how can I even think about complaining about it? Can’t. Won’t. I’m grateful for every year. Every day. Every second.

Another thing that didn’t suck about turning 50: I felt so much love. From friends, family, and especially my husband and daughter. My heart was beyond full. And my husband hit it out of the park. We went away for the weekend, and he arranged for a private dinner prepared by a personal chef. It was such a joy to enjoy a delicious meal without having to go through my long list of food intolerances just to order a piece of fish.

Here are a few photos of the meal if you are curious. I never, ever get to eat anything this interesting and beautiful anymore. And it was all Paleo, with the exception of the cake. The cake was gluten and dairy free and very low sugar, but it wasn’t grain free, and I decided to look the other way on that one. Hey, if you’re not going to look the other way on your 50th birthday, when are you? To keep it safe, I only had a small portion though (I do not feel well if I eat sugar and/or grain).

So that takes care of the traditional birthday celebrations. But for me, there was something different about turning 50. I was 40 when I first got sick, which means I’ve been battling to regain my health for an entire decade. So in many ways, I’m happy to turn the page and see what this new decade has to say for itself.

Who knows how things will turn out, but if my forties were about surviving, I hope my fifties will be about thriving. Thriving means something different to me now than it did before I got sick. Chronic illness has a way of moving the goal posts. For me, thriving means reclaiming little pieces of me that have been lost to lyme disease and anxiety and a wrecked GI tract.

Thriving means rebuilding my life so I have a purpose greater than simply trying to stay alive. Thriving means changing my perspective to see myself as a person not a patient. Thriving means accepting my limitations and doing the most I can with what I have to work with (vs. feeling regret about things I can’t do anymore).

Thriving is a tall order since I’m still stuck in that place somewhere between sick and well. An unavoidable reality of my life is I will have to spend plenty of time trying to restore my health, but I want to spend equal if not more time figuring out how to thrive. I’m not exactly sure how I will do that, but I am sure I’m going to try very hard.

For me, life might just begin at 50. And that definitely does not suck.

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