Blog #77: “Seen It. Survived It. Got the T-Shirt.”

(Part 2 of the “What We Bring After 50” series)

Let’s talk about a sneaky little narrative that pops up in meetings, media, and family dinners alike: "They just don’t get it anymore." "It’s a new world now." "Bless their hearts, they’re trying."

Sound familiar? We, the age-experienced, have all felt the sting of being quietly sidelined. As if somehow, when we crossed the 50 mark, we slipped from "valuable voice" to "background noise."

And yet… here we are. Not just still standing, but wiser, sharper, and more resilient than we’ve ever been. The problem isn’t that we’re outdated. It is that society forgets that depth doesn’t scream. It doesn’t trend. It doesn’t interrupt. But it does matter.

Let me shine a little light on what we carry. We carry a deep reservoir of experience filled with the trial-and-error wisdom of years lived fully. We’ve made decisions with stakes high and hearts trembling. We’ve learned what works, what doesn’t, and when it's best to keep breathing. That’s not anecdote, it’s a hard-won strategy.

We’ve honed pattern recognition like radar. Economic downturn? Been through five (or more). Family drama? We can spot that storm brewing like seasoned meteorologists. Political chaos? Let's just say we’ve seen a few pendulums swing. That long view helps others see what's coming—and how to ride the waves instead of getting pulled under.

Our historical perspective means we don’t panic when the internet goes down. We remember rotary phones and handwritten letters, the Cold War, and the first moon landing. That memory bank helps decode the present. It offers clarity in chaos.

We walk with a moral compass that’s been calibrated by a thousand choices, regrets, reckonings, and redemptions. We’ve learned what we stand for, and what we won’t stand for. That’s ballast in a world addicted to spin.

We are walking, talking, and owning resilience. We’ve survived heartbreak, illness, prejudice, layoffs, caretaking, loneliness, and loss. And in the words of the immortal Maya Angelou, still we rise, again and again. Our survival is not a footnote. It’s a light for those coming behind us.

And we are storytellers. We hold stories that carry culture, wisdom, warning, and wonder. Stories that say: “I’ve been there. Here’s what I learned. Now go write your next chapter.”

We’re living archives with a pulse—and a punchline. Our stories aren’t over. They’re just getting juicier. And they hold the wisdom this world sorely needs.

If you’re over 50, here’s your invitation this week: Dust off a story you haven’t told in a while. One with real stakes, maybe one that shaped your values or cracked your heart open. Share it with someone younger. Not to preach, but to pass the torch.

If this post made you smile, nod, or mutter “yes, exactly,” don’t keep it to yourself. Share it with a friend, a daughter, a colleague—someone who needs to remember that lived experience is gold.