I spent my whole life trying to fit in.

I didn’t express my needs, kept a smile on my face, and tried to perform my gender as if an Oscar was within reach. And then my life fell apart at 38.

Since then, I’ve experimented with being a woman on the “outside.” I gave up looking for a husband and having my perfect family. I quit my job. I wrote a sex column for four years.

Still, I wanted more.

I wanted to make improvements on my house, as a single female homeowner, and I didn’t want to have to wait for my brothers or male friends to help me. I wanted to dust off my hiking shoes without having to wait for my friends to have a spare afternoon when their kids and husbands didn’t need them. I wanted to take roads trips and maybe even travel internationally without having to wait for someone to make room in their schedule to accompany me.

And one day, as the half-century mark came closer into view, I finally stopped waiting.

My first act was tragically lackluster – womanhood can have that effect when it exists within a culture that doesn’t embrace it.

But I’ve learned a few things in the last ten years. Things that have helped me celebrate being a woman on the outside.

Trust me when I say my second act is going to be epic. I’m learning how to do everything I’ve always wanted to do all on my own.

I don’t have time to worry about fitting in anymore…

Y.L. Wolfe is a writer, artist, and photographer whose work explores what it means to be a woman “on the outside.” Her words and art reflect her journey into her second act as she navigates middle age.

She is the creatrix behind the photographic journey, Rising, and the author of Paris, My Love. She’s also the Wolfe behind Howl, a column about female sexual liberation.