Blog Two: Why My 50s Are My Most Ambitious Years Yet

I was talking to my daughter over the weekend, giving her advice as she begins her own legal journey.  Which firms to consider, which areas of law to explore, how to navigate those early decisions that feel so enormous at the time.

It got me thinking about a concept I've heard throughout my career.  The idea of having an "old head on young shoulders." And it struck me, has that, in a way, finally come true? Because a woman in her 50s, is that not exactly that? The old head, on young(ish) shoulders.

There's a narrative that used to follow women into their 50s.  That the most ambitious years are behind them.  That career momentum belongs to the young.  That somewhere between raising children and reaching midlife, professional relevance quietly slips away.

I've never believed it.

I built and ran Dormer Stanhope while raising two children.  Those years were demanding in ways that are difficult to articulate, but they were also, I now realise, some of the most formative of my career.  Not despite motherhood, but because of it.

Now, with two adult children and nearly three decades of legal practice behind me, I can say this with complete conviction: I am more ambitious today than I have ever been.  The issues that once filled my head, raising two children, building my personal career, building a legal practice, have lost their grip.  And I don't think I'm alone in that.

Business owners in their 50s and beyond are significantly more likely to succeed than those in their 20s.  Experience is the differentiator.  But I'd go further than that.  For women specifically, the skills built through motherhood are profoundly undervalued as professional assets.

Motherhood builds what I'd call a "multi-awareness" muscle, the ability to hold multiple competing priorities in mind simultaneously and act on all of them.  Running a legal practice demands exactly that.  So does negotiation.  So does leadership.

Mothers also learn early that control doesn't work.  You get what you need by understanding what others need, by finding the solution that brings people with you rather than pushing them into resistance.  That's not a soft skill.  In law, in business, in any room where outcomes matter, it's one of the most powerful tools you can have.

Then there's the capacity to function within ambiguity.  Any mother knows that the best-laid plans rarely survive contact with reality.  You adapt.  You recalibrate.  You keep moving.  In business, that quality isn't optional, it's essential.

For a long time, society was slow to recognise what women over 50 bring to the table.  The idea that men grow more distinguished with age while women quietly pass their peak has been a persistent one.  But I want to be clear, this isn't about attacking men, and I think as a profession, law has gone to great lengths to close that gap.  Just look at the number of women in clerkship programs today.

I remember being in that position myself, finishing university, stepping into my first firm, convinced I was just getting started.  And I was.

But what I didn't know then, and what I find myself telling young women now, is that the version of "just getting started" that comes with three decades of experience behind you is something else entirely.

This chapter feels like the one everything else was building toward.  For the first time, I have the experience to anticipate what's coming, the wisdom to know what actually matters, and the confidence to back myself without hesitation, and that confidence, I've learned, only comes with age.

That's the old head on young shoulders.  Not a concept anymore.  A reality.

I am a woman in my 50s and I am only just getting started.