I had a conversation this week that stayed with me long after we said goodbye.
We met only a few weeks ago, but I instantly liked her.
I’ve tried to explain my attraction to her to other people, but I struggle to put it into words. The best way I can describe it is this:
She knows who she is.
She knows what she believes.
She knows what matters to her.
And she carries herself with a quiet self-assurance that you can feel the moment she walks into a room.
Not loud confidence. Not performative confidence. Just a steadiness that comes from being comfortable in your own skin.
I’ve found myself wanting to know her better ever since.
This week, through a long string of voice messages back and forth, we ended up having one of those conversations that starts in one place and ends up somewhere completely different.
We talked about marketing and how neither of us enjoys cold outreach – doing it or receiving it.
We talked about the pressure to produce fast results in a world that rewards speed. Hustle culture is still alive and kicking.
We talked about women finding their voice, standing firm in their convictions, and what that can sometimes cost us when other people’s opinions are louder than our own.
But underneath all of those topics, we eventually realized we were talking about something else entirely.
We were talking about the gift of age.
The gift of experience. The gift of intuition.
The gift of discernment.
The gift of patience.
And suddenly I realized that the thing I admired most about her wasn’t confidence at all.
It was wisdom.
Not the kind of wisdom that comes from reading a book, listening to a podcast, taking a course, or asking ChatGPT for the answer.
The kind of wisdom that only comes from living.
From making mistakes.
From changing your mind.
From being wrong.
From being hurt.
From trusting the wrong people.
From trusting the right people.
From taking chances.
From waiting.
From failing.
From beginning again.
The older I get, the more I realize that many of the qualities I admire most in other women can’t be fast-tracked.
You can’t shortcut discernment. You can’t download intuition. You can’t purchase patience. You can’t Google self-trust. You earn those things through experience. And experience has a way of teaching lessons that no strategy ever could.
Maybe that’s one of the gifts of this season of life. When we’re younger, we often want the answer. The roadmap. The shortcut. The certainty.
But eventually life teaches us that some of the most valuable things we’ll ever develop aren’t skills. They’re qualities. And qualities take time. Which is why I find myself feeling increasingly grateful for the women who are a little farther down the road than I am.
Not because they have all the answers. But because they remind me that some things can only be learned by living them. And perhaps that’s the most encouraging thought of all.
Maybe you’re not behind. Maybe you’re becoming. One lived experience at a time.
