Samantha Womack and Manoj Malde

I turned 50 earlier this month.

It was rather strange – especially as it was the first birthday without my Mum. I’m the youngest of five, and she used to say: “I can’t believe my BABY is going to be 50! Where does all the time go, Sarah?” And I couldn’t answer her!

My experience of time is that it is like sand in the hand – it can’t be held on to.

My first decade – was spent in my Mum’s model agency: watching and learning about people. When I went to school I was surprised to meet children. I’d only mixed with adults. 

Ten to 20 was me harnessing a strong religious and political identity. Concerned about social justice from a VERY young age, and always very religious, I’d wanted to be a nun for much of my teens, but became a Muslim instead! 

20 to 30 – I did my degree, got married, had three children, lost my dad and my mother-in-law, and became a public speaker. Life was definitely lived in the fast lane.

My 30s were a whirlwind – juggling three children, founding and running a magazine, engaging with political and civic society, an OBE at 33, three miscarriages. That decade’s a bit of a blur to be honest.

My 40s showed me that everything before was a mere warm up routine, child’s play, before the really serious stuff of a desperately ill child and all the trauma that entailed. My 40s ended with my Mum’s passing. It was a humbling and very sad decade.

And now here I am at 50 – with few expectations but determined to spend time with the people I love, to do things which bring me and others joy, and especially - to leave behind something of good that is of service to others. As a Muslim, I believe that will count for me even when I journey on. There is no point accumulating ‘stuff’ which I can’t take with me; rather my faith teaches me to strive to accumulate good deeds, which will meet me eventually when I leave this world.

Some friends and family say I sound morbid – but honestly – I believe it’s worth facing our ultimate reality sooner rather than later. I remember my grandmother’s words when she turned 100: “One hundred years – they went so fast!”