At 47, Looking Back to Move Forward
I recently turned 47. It isn’t a milestone like 40 was—or 50 will be—but it feels significant all the same. I can sense a turning point: one chapter closing, another beginning.
My life followed a longer pipeline than most. While others moved straight from school to career, mine detoured through a two-year church mission in Peru and a six-year enlistment in the U.S. Air Force, including a deployment to Iraq—before college ever entered the picture. I was often older than my peers, yet always felt behind, perpetually trying to catch up.
Later, I fell in love and made the choice to step back from my own career to fully support my spouse’s. That investment paid off. They are now at the height of their profession, and I’ve been given the chance to step forward again—older, and feeling behind once more.
This time, though, I’ve learned something important: I don’t belong in large, bureaucratic organizations. So I struck out on my own. It turns out that being your own boss really means having many bosses—every client, every customer. It’s harder than I imagined, a phrase that has become something of a family refrain.
Physically, I’ve also changed. I underwent life-altering surgery to correct severe sleep apnea and have stepped back from competitive bodybuilding. At my biggest, I weighed 300 pounds. I’ve "been there, done that." Now, my interests are shifting—from building my own body to helping others build theirs.
Long-standing interests in design, branding, and storytelling have finally converged in the creation of our clothing brand, Buffery – Flex Uniforms. The logo itself comes from a sketch I made in high school—carried with me for decades, waiting for the right moment.
It feels as though I’m only now repairing and integrating parts of myself that have been fractured for years. This internal remodeling mirrors my external changes, and together they form a foundation I’m finally ready to build on.
As David Bowie once said, “Aging is an extraordinary process where you become the person you always should have been.”
At 47, I feel that process in motion—and I’m ready for what comes next.
