Welcome to Age (un)Gracefully, where we’ll go together, kicking and screaming, into middle age and beyond.

Who am I?

I’m Kathleen – I’m in my early fifties, with a newly empty nest, a terrific boyfriend (can we really not come up with a better word? BOYFRIEND? he may make me feel like a teenager, but c’mon now), a career I enjoy, and a whole lotta attitude.

What’s my story?

I grew up in suburban New Jersey with my mother (sadly, long deceased), my father (who will likely outlive us all), my older brother David (sadly, he passed away a few years ago), and my older sister Peggy (who is the single best person I know).

I moved to Tennessee with my then-fiance, now first ex-husband in my late twenties (Thing One, we’ll call him). Yes, I said first ex-husband; sometimes I have to learn lessons twice for them to stick. We got married, had a baby, got divorced, and then I spent a lot of years scrambling to keep a roof over The Boy’s head and food in his mouth. I finally came up for air after nearly dying from pneumonia (a story for another time, but I promise I’ll get to it), and decided that I was going to die alone if I didn’t start dating again. Which leads us to my second ex-husband (Thing Two), but we’re just going to pretend those four years never happened, ok? And some free advice for you: there are worse things than dying alone. You’re welcome.

By that time, I was in my late forties; a two-time loser in love with a teenage son and no life of my own. Which led me back to my first love: the stage. That’s right, kids: I got back into doing theatre, which I hadn’t done since just before I moved to Tennessee. And it saved my life. It found me a tribe, it led me to the love of my life (again, a story for another time), and it gave me something to do besides become a crazy cat lady once The Boy went out on his own.

Speaking of crazy cat lady…

I realize this looks like a picture of a dog and a cat; I assure you, the dog is quite convinced that he too is a cat. I know this because he’s usually sitting on top of the furniture instead of on the furniture.

The Boy is now living on his own, and it’s time to figure out what’s next. Which brings me to…

Why am I here?

Getting older is not for the faint of heart; my goal is to make it a little less scary for those of you about to join the middle-age club,  a little more entertaining for those of you who are already here with me, and hopefully give you some tips and tricks to ease the process of aging. Remember: Getting old is biology; BEING old is optional.

Starting next week, I’ll post new content every Wednesday. The topics may vary, but they’ll always relate to aging well (which does not mean spending $100,00 on plastic surgery and dressing like a stripper – although no judgement here: you do you).

What should you do?

Want to make sure you get all the juicy, NSFW (oh, yeah – did I mention I love a good four-letter word? because I do) details on midlife? Then subscribe to my mailing list. I promise – no sharing your information with anyone.

And, while I have you, what do you want me to write about? Blogging is all about community, yes? So tell me what interests you. What do you want to learn about, read about, talk about?