What Dolly Parton Taught Me About Reinventing Your Life After 50

Standing beside Old Hickory Lake in Tennessee, I started thinking about Dolly Parton.

There is something about a lake that makes you reflect.

The mountains will always have my heart—I’m an East Tennessee mountain girl, after all—but water has a different kind of magic. A lake is calming. Restorative. In the fall and winter, huge flocks of white pelicans migrate through here, and watching them settle onto the water reminds me that sometimes we need a place to land, too.

And lately, I’ve been thinking about what Dolly Parton’s life can teach those of us approaching 60.

Because by this point in life, most of us have been through some things.

We’ve fallen.

We’ve failed.

We’ve started over.

We’ve let go of people and places we thought would be part of our lives forever.

And maybe we’ve discovered that the things we once thought were ruining our lives were actually creating the person we needed to become.

Sometimes Life Is a Greasy Pole

There is a story about a young Dolly entering a greasy-pole climbing contest.

Before attempting the climb, she reportedly rolled her pretty dress around in the dirt so she could get enough traction to make it to the top.

And she won.

What a metaphor for life.

If you’re getting close to 60, haven’t we all rolled around in the dirt a little?

Life can feel like one giant greasy pole. Just when you think you’re making progress, something sends you sliding backward.

But the dirt we collect along the way can become our traction.

The heartbreak.

The divorce.

The career that didn’t work out.

The relationship that ended.

The rejection.

The dream that took much longer than we expected.

We don’t necessarily become strong despite those experiences.

Sometimes we become strong because of them.

You May Have to Write 1,000 Songs Before You Write Your “Jolene”

Dolly Parton’s enormous songwriting catalog reminds me of something I constantly have to tell myself:

Keep creating.

I’ve been building my own dreams for years, and I’ll admit that sometimes it is difficult watching someone announce that they became successful almost immediately.

That hasn’t been my story.

Nothing seems to come particularly quickly for me.

But eventually, things come.

And now, approaching 60, I can look around and realize that life has become pretty darn successful.

Maybe you have to write hundreds of songs before you write your “Jolene.”

Maybe those early attempts aren’t failures at all.

You’re developing your talent.

You’re learning your craft.

You’re discovering your voice.

You’re acquiring the skills necessary to recognize inspiration when it finally arrives.

Whatever your dream is—starting a business, becoming a creator, writing a book, changing careers, getting healthy or completely reinventing yourself—don’t assume that because it hasn’t happened yet, it isn’t going to happen.

Keep writing your songs.

Wear Your Coat of Many Colors

“Coat of Many Colors” has always meant something special to me.

By the time we reach this stage of life, we’re all wearing a coat.

For some people, that coat becomes darkened by everything that has happened to them.

But I like to imagine something different.

I imagine taking all those little scraps from our lives—the pieces we once thought were ugly or worthless—and sewing them together.

Maybe one piece came from being told at 17 that you were on your own.

Maybe another came from discovering that your marriage wasn’t what you believed it was.

Maybe it’s the boss who tried to destroy your career.

Maybe it’s finally moving to the city of your dreams, only to have the person you loved leave just as you were beginning your new life.

At the time, those experiences feel like scraps we’d happily throw away.

But stitch them together and something beautiful happens.

They become your coat of many colors.

They become wisdom.

They become compassion.

They become the experiences that allow you to guide someone else through a road you’ve already traveled.

Your scars aren’t necessarily evidence of everything that went wrong.

They can also be evidence that you survived.

Don’t Let the 9-to-5 Shatter Your Dreams

I’ve always connected more with the lyrics of “9 to 5” than the melody.

Because I understand what it feels like when work begins consuming the person you were supposed to become.

Three years ago, I left my conventional working life.

My schedule felt less like 9-to-5 and more like 5 a.m. to 9 p.m., six days a week.

There wasn’t enough room left for my dreams.

I wanted to become a YouTube creator.

I wanted to coach people.

I wanted to become a bodybuilder.

I wanted to blog.

I wanted to write a book.

I wanted to create.

Eventually, I realized that nobody was going to arrive and hand me permission to pursue those things.

I had to give myself permission.

That doesn’t mean everyone should quit their job tomorrow.

It means we should periodically ask ourselves a difficult question:

Is the life I’m living leaving any room for the life I still want to create?

At 50, 60 or beyond, your dreams still deserve space.

Sometimes You Have to Let Go to Grow

“I Will Always Love You” may be my favorite Dolly Parton song.

To me, it is ultimately a song about letting go with grace.

Dolly wrote it as she prepared to leave her professional partnership with Porter Wagoner and pursue the next chapter of her career.

She knew she was capable of something more.

That takes courage.

Because sometimes the thing we need to leave isn’t necessarily terrible.

It’s simply too small for the person we’re becoming.

I’ve had to let go of a marriage.

I’ve had to let go of a home.

I’ve had to let go of relationships.

I’ve had to let go of expectations about my children.

I’ve had to let go of careers.

And perhaps most importantly, I’ve had to let go of the idea that I was supposed to become some conventional version of a woman.

I’m not.

And I don’t want to be.