A Note on 31 Years

I turn 31 today.

I say that not just as a marker of time but as a measure of the life that has been lived within those years—the choices made, the paths walked, the falls taken, and the moments of rising again. Thirty-one years of learning, unlearning, healing, and building. Thirty-one years of becoming.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what this age means, how it stands in the space between the urgency of youth and the wisdom of experience. It’s an age where you’re old enough to understand the weight of your past and young enough to shape the future with intention. It’s standing in the middle of who you were and who you are still becoming.

If there’s one truth that has revealed itself to me over and over, it is this: You are not defined by your failures, nor are you bound by your past. Every single breath is another chance to begin again. And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is to let go of the old version of yourself—the one who played small, the one who doubted, the one who thought she had to earn her worth—and step boldly into the person you were always meant to be.

When I first started Margo’s, I didn’t just want to create a space for movement. I wanted to create a space for transformation. For healing. For rediscovering our strength—not just physically, but in every possible way. And every day, you remind me why that vision matters.

I see you showing up for yourself. I see you pushing through discomfort, rewriting narratives, breaking cycles, and reclaiming your power. I see you choosing to believe in yourself, even when it’s hard. And in doing so, you remind me to do the same.

Thirty-one years have taught me that life isn’t about waiting for the perfect moment. It’s about choosing to step forward, even when you’re scared. It’s about embracing the uncertainty, trusting the process, and believing that the person you are becoming is worth the fight.

So, if you’re standing at the edge of something—if you feel a change stirring inside you—let this be your sign. Take the leap. Trust yourself. Know that you are capable of more than you can imagine. And that no matter what, you are never alone in this journey.

Thank you for being part of mine. Thank you for allowing me to be part of yours.

Here’s to becoming. Here’s to believing. Here’s to 31 years—and everything still ahead.

With love and gratitude,

Margaret