Publisher - September 2025

Photography by 
Jacie Elizabeth Millen

“My life is my message.”
— Elizabeth Skenes Millen

Well, here I go, entering another decade of life on September 10. I don’t remember this, but Lindsay, my art director, reminded me that I cried all day the last time I hit a new decade. In my defense, I think that was more about what I was going through at the time (divorce, empty nest, house destroyed in Hurricane Matthew, so much at once) as opposed to my age. While I don’t plan on crying this year, I can’t promise anything.

First, I want to say, I’ve had an amazing life so far. Believe me, there’s been some difficult stuff—lifelong stuff to be exact, but I’ve been fortunate enough to have a strong mind that allows me not to get stuck or dwell in the quagmire and to find and walk the lighter path. If my life was a novel, the first lines would be from Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

Sometimes, I feel like a fraud because I am a person who truly has been there and done that. I can talk with such unbelievable experience about people I’ve known, jobs I’ve had, and things I’ve done that most never even dream of. Simply, how my life has unfolded around me, and the way I have grasped it, has been both a gift and, at times, a curse. I’ve been a junior leaguer, but I’ve also played poker with the guys, smoking a big fat cigar. I’m not there for the ride, I want to win, but at the same time, I went to the casino in Cherokee (never been to Vegas) and budgeted myself $25. So, that was gone in about 4 minutes, and I was done, which I find amusing. For me, it’s not about the money, it’s about the strategy, the outwitting, the meaning, and, most of all, the connection.

Now, I am not a world-traveler, nor am I worldly. I haven’t met a president or a king, or partied with a rock star, but the things I’ve had the opportunity to do in my lifetime are absolutely amazing, and for this, I’m grateful and blessed.

For a fat kid from a blue-collar dysfunctional home, I had an unusually open mind with dreamer tendencies. I’m not sure where I got it from, but I think it has made all the difference in the sum total of my life so far. I mean, I’ve been told by my mother numerous times, “You’re not like us.” (Which isn’t meant as compliment, but I’ve come to take it as one.) And that’s what I want to talk to you about today: Living YOUR life and celebrating who YOU are!

I’ve never been one to say “No” very often. It wasn’t from a sense of adventure; it was from a duty to please people. So, when I discovered I was a clinical people pleaser, I decided I would start saying “No” more. Well, now I’m rethinking all that—I’m entering a decade where I want to say “Yes”. But only to things that float my boat—you know, bring joy, peace, laughter, solace, connection and contentment.

I have more years behind me than in front of me, and I have to make those in front of me all mine. I want to do very little out of obligation. I want my drum’s beat, to which I march, be the loudest in my life. I want to surround myself with my love, my children, bright happy colors and flowers and true friends and delicious wine—I don’t want a glass of house wine, I want Rombauer! In fact, I want every minute of my life to be a Rombauer minute—as good as can be! And why haven’t I wanted this—even demanded this—all along? (That’s the million-dollar question, perhaps for all of us!)

The answer comes full circle back to Charles Dickens and the second line in A Tale of Two Cities: “…it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness.” We all must accept that life is a cluster made up of wisdom and foolishness, good and bad, horrible and fabulous, smart, dumb, and dumber, fun and misery, and this is why it is ridiculous to regret any of it. Without the dumb decisions, huge mistakes, major embarrassments, bouts of sadness and despair, we would not be able to notice and appreciate glorious moments.

I had this revelation of saying “Yes” when I was driving from Hilton Head to Beaufort Wine Bar last month for the Pink Partini. (So awesome!) I had one friend go with me, but I knew many people wouldn’t make the trek to Beaufort. (Thank you so much to the nearly 200 women who showed up! Y'all rock!) It made me think how people cop out when things get just a little inconvenient. I love stepping up and out of my comfort zone, going new places, dressing up. I’ve always been an all-in, go the distance person, and I think it makes life better on the inside and out when you put effort into things. My parents always said, “You get out of something what you put into it.” There’s just more rewards for effort, something today’s world of convenience has forgotten.

My point is this: say “Yes” and make an effort; don’t cop out because something requires a little extra. Life can never be extraordinary without the extra—otherwise it’s all just ordinary, which absolutely is not comprised of even one Rombauer minute.

There have been many quotes I’ve lived by over the first two-thirds of my life. My favorites were: “Don’t let anyone steal your dreams.”; When people show you who they are, believe them the first time.” ; and “Change your attitude, change your world.” But here’s my quote to live by for the next how ever long I get before I’m planted to bloom in Heaven: “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, ‘Wow! What a ride!’” (Hunter S. Thompson)

So, here I go. Want to ride?

Think Pink,
Elizabeth Millen