To those who see today’s grandmothers and notice only gray hair and gentle smiles, let us reintroduce ourselves.
We were the wild souls of the ’60s and ’70s. We wore skirts so short they made headlines, boots that climbed past our knees, and pants so tight they held every dream in place. We didn’t just witness change—we sparked it.
Our music was rebellion set to rhythm. The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix—they weren’t background noise. They were our voice. We sang loudly, played records until they wore out, and let the music move us—heart and soul.
We raced through cities on roaring motorcycles, zipped around in Mini Coopers with windows down and freedom as our only destination. We sipped gin and tonics in smoky bars, danced barefoot in fields soaked with rain and rock ‘n’ roll.
We didn’t have Wi-Fi, filters, or phones glued to our hands. Our memories weren’t uploaded—they were lived. With tangled hair, dirty feet, and hearts blazing, we built a world that pushed back, stood tall, and refused to be silenced.
So when you see us now, remember—we were fierce long before hashtags. We didn’t just dream of change. We became it.
Rock on, young ones. We already did.
