I was standing at the precipice, a middle-aged woman, yearning for a new beginning and trying to reinvent my life. After spending two decades raising my daughter alone, cherishing every moment of motherhood, I finally had the time to focus on my career and love aspirations, but the world seemed to be telling me I was too old and too late.
It started just after I turned 50, when my doctor’s office sent me a medical reminder disguised as a birthday card. “Look who’s all grown up and ready for a colonoscopy,” it read. I chuckled at its cleverness, but it planted a seed of uncertainty.
Then came the email invitation
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