On Turning 50

Photo by Zoshua Colah on Unsplash

I turned 50? I wish! No, it was my daughter. My youngest. It’s hard to believe she is that old, how old that makes me and how young 50 is—actually. So many years ahead, so many opportunities if you can get past thinking you’re too old to—fill in the blank.

Of course, it didn’t seem that way when I turned 50. However, 50 did galvanize me to follow my dream of becoming a mental health counselor. It served as a flashing yellow light saying, “now or never.”

I first encountered the benefits of counseling for myself and my family in my mid-30s. I found the experience life-changing, began to think of it as an enviable career, and stashed the idea along with other improbable dreams in the “someday” file in my head.

My pressing goal at the time was to finally complete my undergraduate degree, interrupted after two years of college by marriage, children, and multiple moves. I completed my BA at the age of 38 and continued working in the writing arena while my children grew up and my husband settled into his new career in health care.

My interest in counseling only grew as I did PR writing for a counseling center. Then somehow mental health stories kept popping up on the education and religion beat I covered for a local newspaper. Volunteer work as a Guardian ad Litem underlined the pressing need for mental health services in the larger community. More and more I felt called to live out compassionate caring in a practical way.

And so, I left my full-time job and entered a graduate program in counseling at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in Charlotte.

It was a scary transition. What about finances, student loans, and an aging brain? Would I succeed or would it be an embarrassing waste of time and money? It took me 18 years and five institutions to complete my undergrad. Why did I think I could knock out a masters in two years, after a 12-year hiatus?

I had loved school since third grade—but that’s a story for another day—and I delighted in being back in the world of academia. Not that it was easy. Going to class and interacting with professors and fellow students, ranging in age from 20 to 50, was the fun part.

It took persistence and determination to stay the course that included mountains of reading and research and endless written papers. Beyond using words to convey information, journalism and academic writing appeared to have little in common. I never learned to enjoy the rigors of scholarly writing, but I persevered.

Required internships in counseling settings brought stone-cold fear of facing clients on my own, and the joy of discovering that I loved doing just that. After two years of intense but gratifying labor, I graduated cum laude into the real world of therapy.

The first hurdle was passing the licensure exam, for which we students were well prepared by the robust academic program and challenging tests along the way. We were informed that everyone who had graduated from the program to date, had passed the test on the first try. No pressure!

Then came finding employment in order to rack up the 2,000 hours of supervised practice required to qualify for licensure. Two years later came the arduous process of credentialing with various health insurers to be eligible for third-party payments.

Along the way, I set up office in a church kitchen where clients were few and far between; in a battered women’s shelter working with preschool children; in a community counseling center with many severely mentally ill clients; and in a colleagues’ private practice that folded one year in.

Starting a business had never been on my bucket list, but because nothing else was working well, I launched Courage Counseling Services (CCS) in September 2006. Just in time for the 2008 recession to hit. Need I say, therapy was not top priority for people facing loss of home and livelihood?

The next few years were a long slog out of debt and into profitability. However, CCS survived and then thrived through three in-person locations and the transition to virtual sessions in 2020, officially closing upon my retirement in 2025.

The 27 years since I took the risk of changing course have been the most rewarding of my life. Had I known at 50 how arduous it would be, I might not have had the courage to begin. But I am so glad I did! It was well worth the risk.

My advice to those 50 and beyond—attempt the thing you’ve always wanted to do. Don’t let age deter you. Time passes regardless of whether you pursue your dream.

Taking my own advice, I’m starting to write the novel I have been mulling over for 20 years. Whether or not I succeed, at least I will have tried. Better late than never, right?

I will keep you posted.