Fifty something and absolutely not done.
Real-life support for women 50+ rebuilding after grief, divorce, money scares, and everything nobody warned us about. No fluff. No toxic positivity. Just honest company in the messy middle.
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Fifty something and absolutely not done
Some weeks we heal. Some weeks we rebuild. Some weeks we finally get to live. Usually it's all three before Wednesday.
Gina, at a glance
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I'm 58, in St. Louis, with a dog named Shiloh and a house that used to hold a family of five. I've lost my son Mitch and my brother Jeff. I've rebuilt after divorce, I'm walking with my parents through their 80s, and I'm figuring out money, purpose, and who I am now that nobody needs me at 6am.
The heavy and the beautiful aren't interruptions. They are the life. A cold Dr Pepper and a hard anniversary belong on the same list. That's what I write about here.
By day I've spent 30+ years in nonprofit fundraising. If that's your world too, I mentor rising development leaders at CDO Blueprint.
I grew up lower middle-income and got my first job at 15. I raised three kids, Mitch, Cameron, and Natalie. I built a 30-year career in nonprofit fundraising, mostly by refusing to stop. I divorced in 2013. Every income stream, every plan, every spreadsheet came from the same place: keep everyone safe, keep it all moving, don't fall apart.
In October 2021, my son Mitch died of an accidental fentanyl overdose after years of addiction. He was 25. In August 2024, my only brother, Jeff, died after a fast fight with cancer. He was 58. My mom has dementia, and my dad is caring for her at home. I couldn't fix any of it. I'm only in control of myself, which is both a relief and a devastation, and most days it's both before lunch.
If someone you love is struggling with addiction, Shatterproof is a good place to start.
Grief cracked open everything else. I've been questioning the beliefs I was raised with, sitting with Pema Chödrön and a meditation cushion, and noticing how many "shoulds" I inherited and never chose. I left the suburbs for the city. Now it's me and Shiloh, and I've stopped treating solo life like a consolation prize. I take myself to dinner. I travel alone. I am the plan.
I love my work. Raising money for a mission I believe in is deeply rewarding. And I also know it's time to design my next chapter on purpose, sometime in the next four to six years. I'm calling it Project 2033.
It means money that feels like safety instead of panic, learning to trade futures (and someday teaching other women 50+ to do it), and finding out who I am when I'm not just getting through the day. I'm not an expert on any of this. I'm a few steps ahead, and I'm bringing you with me.
Coming in 2027
What happens when a woman who's spent decades taking care of everyone and everything decides to design her next chapter on purpose? I'm about to find out, out loud. The money, the fears, the plan, and the parts I haven't figured out yet.
Follow along on SubstackHonest writing and conversation for women who are done pretending they're fine. The newsletter and the podcast both live there now.
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One theme a month, every Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday. Months with a fifth Sunday get a bonus week: reader Q&A or an Open Tabs roundup.
Three goals, real finish lines, and dropping something before you add.
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Self, friendship, family, and pushing back on couple culture.
Being one, having one, and losing one slowly.
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Who stayed, who left, and finding your people.
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You are not too old. You are not too far gone. You are not too broken.
The next chapter hasn't been written yet, and that is a gift, not a threat.
From the messy middle, Gina