An Observation on Aging, Visibility, and Stepping Into What’s Next
They say it’s a blessing to grow old.
I get it—in theory.
But in practice? It sneaks up on you.
One day, you notice the changes in your skin. The way your face holds itself differently. And like I wrote about last week, there’s this erasure that tries to happen—a quiet silencing, a forced invisibility that gray hair seems to accelerate.
Making peace with fading youthful beauty and embracing a maturing presence is a shift no OB ever warns you about.
I see now why Cicely Tyson kept her hair jet black until the day she left us.
And yet, I love seeing myself reflected in Terrace Martin & Alex Isley’s 2 Step In The Living Room—a visual and musical celebration of joy, presence, and the rhythm of life we refuse to lose. A reminder that we are still here, still vibrant, still moving, still loving, and still being loved.
And for the first time in my life, I’m leaning into a soft life—something that was unavailable to me until now.
Because I no longer have anything to prove.
And women over 50? We are far from done—no matter how our knees may periodically object.
Our dreams are just as vivid—maybe even clearer now. And for the first time, we carry them without the weight of who we used to be. Freed from the relentless responsibilities of our younger selves, we move with wisdom, strategy, and the resources to make them real.
The only question now is time—do we have enough of it to do all we still dream of?
And that’s the scary part.
The unknown part.
I remind myself that women before me have faced these shifts, and they didn’t let the world decide when their story was over. My grandmother was one of them.
She grew up in Jim Crow Louisiana.
Worked the fields.
Worked as a domestic. (And let me tell you, she hated that work. The stories she told—whew.)
Her migration to California in the 1940s changed everything. It got her out of domestic work for good. She took a job at a straw manufacturing plant, but somewhere in her 50s, she made a bold move—she went to school and became a Licensed Vocational Nurse.
That was her dream. Always had been.
She told me, over and over, about the time she “doctored” a chicken back to health as a little girl. That’s when she knew. And in her 50s, she made it happen.
So if I’m celebrating anyone this International Women’s Day, it’s my grandmother—Ira Taylor Brown.
Proof that the good stuff doesn’t really start until Act Two.
So I remind myself: I still have big dreams. And if Nana could accomplish hers, I can accomplish mine.
To all my sisters looking in the mirror and not fully recognizing the reflection, feeling the weight of this season’s change—take courage, sis.
I see you.
Not because you need validation, but because you deserve to be seen. Because you matter, and you always have.
We are at the plot twist—the moment the story gets even better.
The best part is just beginning.
Lisa N. Alexander is the author and founder of This Woman Knows and What Million-Dollar Brands Know. She is an award-winning filmmaker, director, producer, and writer and is the owner of PrettyWork Creative.
