My Life Really Did Start at Fifty

On my 50th birthday, I realised who I was.

Photo by lucas law on Unsplash

And it wasn’t as his wife! My “life” started at 50 — actually on my exact fiftieth birthday. Let me tell you about the lead up to it. Just after my 49th birthday, my girlfriend said to my husband that she wanted to plan me a surprise 50th. All he had to do was to give her the names and phone numbers of all my friends.

So what did he do? He came straight home and said.

“ June wants to throw you a surprise 50th party.”

I’d never had a surprise party. (I’d thrown him a surprise party a few years previously.) My reply was something like “ Forget it! The idea of a surprise party is that it’s a surprise.” June was pissed off with him too.

I was determined to do something special for my birthday so there and then (without his knowledge) decided to plan a weekend away with my girlfriends (including June).

And that’s what I did! I researched places to stay, found a suitable B&B and invited 16 of my girlfriends. We carpooled and everyone arrived for dinner on Friday night — a delicious home-cooked three-course meal prepared for us by our host.

We all did our own thing on Saturday — some walked into Montville — others hung around the house and relaxed while I ventured out to…