For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived my life in 5th gear, no brakes, no seatbelt, hurtling forward as fast as I could. Picture a convertible on the autobahn—hair flying, bugs in my teeth, no rearview mirror. That’s been me. If there was a cliff, I didn’t brake; I cannonballed into the unknown, trusting I’d figure it out on the way down.

But today, for the first time, I’m standing still. My youngest son has moved off to college, my businesses are running, and suddenly, I have time. Time to open that old notes file on my phone, where I’ve spent the last few years typing ideas—half-thoughts, story fragments, lessons I wanted to capture. Reading them now, they feel like postcards from a younger me, a woman so busy she couldn’t even stop to finish a thought.

I turned 50 this year, and there’s a part of me that feels the weight of it. There are lines around my eyes now, worn in by years of worry, late nights, and just…life. I wonder if people see those lines and think I look “old”—or if, like me, they still see that spark, the feeling of being young and hungry for the next thing.

Looking back, I wonder what I might have missed by always moving so fast. Maybe if I’d slowed down, I would have seen more. I might have taken time to explore my own dreams sooner, instead of always putting them on hold. But then again, living like this has given me resilience, instincts, a kind of toughness that can only come from surviving the crash landings.

Now, here I am—finally able to write, finally ready to share these stories. I’m a little terrified, a little exhilarated. And maybe, just maybe, this is a new kind of adventure. One where I don’t have to be in 5th gear all the time. One where I can savor the road instead of speeding past it.

So here’s to the start of something new. To all the other women out there, still living in 5th gear, I see you. And I want you to know—it’s never too late to slow down, to take a breath, and to start living for you.