Trying to Age Gracefully….(emphasis on trying!)

I’ve never been a girly girl. Growing up, I was more at home with scraped knees than painted nails. Pink was never my color of choice—somehow, I decided it was too soft, too fragile, too much of a weakness. And as a tomboy, weakness wasn’t something I was willing to wear.

Now I’m a grandmother of six—three boys and three girls (and one on the way). Each one is unique and wonderful, but one granddaughter in particular has been my teacher in the most unexpected way. She’s the one who comes charging into life like Ramona Quimby herself—equal parts sass, laughter, and determination. She’s the girl who wears her sparkly princess dress with muddy cowboy boots, who can climb a tree with a tiara still perched on her head.

And here’s the lesson she’s given me: pink is not weakness at all.

Through her, I’ve come to see pink as fierce, fearless, and bold. It’s not about fragility—it’s about standing tall in who you are, whether you’re covered in glitter, dirt, or both. Pink is laughter that doesn’t apologize. Pink is courage dressed up as sweetness. Pink is strength with a smile.  Pink is continuing to climb even if the tiara slips.

At this stage in life, I realize that being a grandmother isn’t just about passing down wisdom—it’s also about being open to receiving it. Sometimes the greatest lessons come from the smallest teachers. And this little one has taught me that strength can come dressed in sparkles, laughter, and yes—even in pink.

~Victoria