42 and Still Evolving: A Journey of Life, Love, and Laughter

I’m officially 42 today. If I’m being honest, I didn’t imagine this is what life would look like at this age, but here we are. The past few years? They’ve been a wild ride. Life has knocked me down, lifted me up, and spun me around more times than I can count. And you know what? I’m grateful for it all—the highs and the lows.

There’s something about the closing of one chapter and the beginning of another that forces you to pause and reflect. I’ve had to say goodbye to things, people, and parts of myself that I thought I’d hold on to forever. Divorce, new city, new love, marriage… I’ve felt it all. I’ve had moments of pure sadness, joy, fear, and gratitude, sometimes all at once. But most importantly, I’ve realized that life isn’t meant to be polished and perfect. It’s meant to be messy, vulnerable, and beautifully imperfect.

For so long, I tried to make things look “just right”—like everything was under control. But that’s exhausting, isn’t it? Let’s be real—nobody has it all together, even if it looks that way from the outside. I’ve learned that we’re all just doing our best, day by day. And that’s okay.

This birthday feels like a fresh start. A death of the old me and a birth of the new. I’m letting go of the need to present life as neat and shiny, and instead embracing the real. The truth is, the beauty of life comes in the moments where we show up raw, unfiltered, and real. It’s the deep belly laughs, the hard conversations, and the quiet moments of reflection that shape us.

I don’t put a lot of my personal life out there. Not because I’m hiding, but because not everything is meant for public consumption. But on my birthday, I feel compelled to share a little more. I’ve been through hell and back, but I’ve come out stronger. My kids are stronger. My love is deeper. My marriage is better for it. I laugh more, and I seek out honest relationships over surface-level ones. If it’s not an absolute yes, it’s a 100% hell no.

The past 42 years have been a whirlwind. I’ve had more jobs than I can count, started and closed businesses, and taken risks I never thought I would. But if there’s one thing I want you to take away from this post, it’s that you can start over. At any stage. Life doesn’t have to stay the way it is right now. We evolve, we grow, and we chase goals that once seemed impossible.

With this stage of life, I’m excited to build the AmberJack group of companies alongside my husband. It’s not easy, but my favorite part is we’re building it together. I’m bringing in my skills in sales, marketing, and branding, and he’s bringing his many years of experience in the executive and investigative world. We’re building this life for us. I’m also proud to have this life with my best friend and partner. He’s my hype man, biggest cheerleader, and advocate. He’s pushed me to stand up for myself and be the best version of me.

Almost two years ago, I walked away from the corporate world. At first, I thought, “What now?!” I’d spent so much of my life working towards a career that suddenly didn’t feel like me anymore. But walking away gave me the space to pursue something that brought me joy. I’ve always loved making our home a space where people feel welcome, where they can kick off their shoes and settle in. Our home was never extravagant, but it was always cozy, inviting, and filled with love.

That’s what I want to do now—create spaces where people feel they belong. And no, you don’t have to break the bank to make your home feel special. Some of my favorite design finds are budget-friendly, Amazon dupes, or repurposed treasures. I may not have a fancy design degree or a bunch of letters after my name, but I know how to make a house feel like home. That’s something my grandmother taught me with her floral boxes, her quirky lamps, and her knack for transforming a room with just a few small changes.

So, here’s to 42. Here’s to being real, raw, and honest. Here’s to throwing perfection out the window and embracing the messy, the beautiful, and everything in between. Thanks for celebrating this milestone with me, for letting me be vulnerable, and for showing up—even when the world feels like it has everything all figured out.

Because guess what? I sure don’t.

But I’m here. And I’m better for it.

Cheers to 42!

-Amber