Some of us are sitting here at 60, 70, 75 + years old realizing: we are not done yet.

That’s the conversation I care about.

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We Are Not Done Yet

I remember the exact moment I understood that nobody was writing for me. Nor would they ever.

I was sitting in my apartment in Virginia — newly arrived, newly alone, newly everything — in the middle of what I can only describe as the most disorienting chapter of my life. Behind me: a marriage that had ended, a retirement I had lost, a hurricane that had taken the house, a whole life I had packed into boxes and left behind. Ahead of me: nothing I could clearly see yet. Just a small apartment, a new city, and a feeling I couldn’t quite name.

And into that moment arrived my AARP newsletter.

Fashion tips. Travel recommendations. The latest book club selection. Financial advice delivered with the chirpy confidence of people who assumed my finances were fine. And The Ethel — their newsletter specifically for women like me, presumably hipper and more relevant — offering dating tips and wardrobe suggestions and gentle guidance on how to manage a divorce at this stage of life.

I put it down and sat there for a long moment.

This is what they think my life is. This is what they think of all retired women!

Not what it actually felt like to start over after your world falls apart. Not what it feels like to sit alone in a new apartment trying to figure out who you even are now. Not the grief, the uncertainty, the stubborn little ember inside you whispering: there has to be more life than this.

Just: buy the beige sweater. Book the cruise. Organize your pantry. Accept decline gracefully and with appropriate accessories.

I knew I wasn’t the only one.

I knew there were other women sitting quietly in their homes feeling what I was feeling. Not broken. Not irrelevant. Not too old.

Just unfinished.

So I started writing.

Not because I had everything figured out. Not because I’m a guru or a life coach or someone who studied this from a comfortable distance. I started writing because I was living it in real time — rebuilding my life while talking about rebuilding my life — and apparently a whole lot of women recognized themselves in that.

I'm 70 now. And nobody hands you a map for rebuilding yourself at this age.

And honestly, that’s when I began to notice something important: women over 60 are carrying entire worlds of experience, grief, wisdom, creativity, curiosity, loneliness, reinvention, and untapped dreams that almost nobody is talking about honestly. Not really. Especially not in a way that feels human.

Over the last 19 months women from all over the world have quietly gathered around this little corner of the internet. Not because I offer perfection. Not because I have a tidy system or a ten-step program or a glossy brand aesthetic.

Because I offer recognition.

We are not all living the same version of later life. Some women are rediscovering creativity. Some are grieving marriages. Some are exhausted from caregiving. Some are lonely in ways they don’t know how to say out loud. Some are waking up realizing they built an entire life around everybody else’s expectations and don’t even know what they want anymore.

And some of us are sitting here at 60, 70, 75 + years old realizing: we are not done yet.

That’s the conversation I care about.

Not anti-aging. Not performance positivity. Not pretending hard things never happened.

Real life. Real rebuilding. Real reinvention.

I made a video going deeper on all of this — why I started, what I’ve learned, and what I believe is possible for women at this stage of life that most of the world is still too busy underestimating us to see.

If you’ve been sitting with that feeling — unfinished, uncertain, but not quite ready to stop — you’re in exactly the right place.

And I’m glad you found your way here.

If any part of this felt familiar — if you’ve ever put down a magazine, closed a newsletter, or turned off a podcast aimed at women your age and thought: this is not my life — then I think you belong here.

MoniroseSoul- the home of The Daily RE-WIRE is where women over 60 who are not done yet come to think out loud, stay awake, and remind each other that reinvention doesn’t have an expiration date.

Daily essays. Weekly live conversations every Tuesday. A community that takes your unfinished life seriously.

Come be unfinished with us.

And if something in this piece made you pause, nod, or feel a little less alone — please give it a heart before you go. That one small tap tells the algorithm this conversation matters. It puts these words in front of another woman who needs to hear them today. She's out there. Help me find her.