Vicki Thomas

What has shaped my success most deeply began long before my career titles, awards, or public recognition. I grew up on a farm in rural Wisconsin, where hard work was not optional — it was simply life. At the age of 10, I joined 4-H, and looking back, I realize it became one of the greatest leadership training grounds I could have ever experienced. I learned how to sew, garden, care for animals, and proudly bring my horse and prize cow to the county fair. But more importantly, I learned about responsibility, resilience, community, and belonging.

At the beginning of every 4-H meeting, we recited the pledge:

“I pledge my head to clearer thinking, my heart to greater loyalty, my hands to better service, and my health to better living for my club, my community, and my country.”

Those words grounded me in values that have guided my entire life. They taught me that leadership is not about status — it is about service. Success is not just personal achievement — it is using your gifts to make a difference in the lives of others.

That foundation became even more important later in life when I faced two life-threatening cancers. When I was diagnosed with a very rare cancer called MMMT and told I had three to five years to live, everything changed. Suddenly, life was no longer theoretical. I got my affairs in order and genuinely prepared myself to die. Yet somehow, I survived. Then, just two years later, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Once again, I faced fear, uncertainty, and the reality of mortality head-on.

Those experiences changed me profoundly. I no longer postpone joy, purpose, connection, or possibility. I often joke that I am now living on my “bonus years,” but there is truth in that humor. Facing death stripped away the unimportant and clarified what really matters: people, purpose, contribution, love, laughter, and making every moment count.

I attribute my success to a combination of Midwestern grit, a deep sense of community and service instilled through 4-H, faith in reinvention, and an unwavering determination to persevere — even when life becomes unimaginably difficult. Surviving cancer did not make me fearless; it made me more alive. It gave me the drive to keep growing, creating, contributing, and refusing to fade quietly into the background simply because society thinks women over 80 should.

I believe our later years can become some of our most meaningful years — not because life gets easier, but because we finally understand what matters most.

The best career advice I ever received came unexpectedly late one night while closing the bar with the president of ABC Television Network during the Lake Placid Olympics. We had worked together years earlier at the Innsbruck Olympics in 1976, and after watching me for several days, he looked at me and said, “Vicki, you’ve changed. You’ve lost your spark.”

At first, I was stunned. I explained that I had a new boss and felt uncertain about my future. Then he gave me advice that would shape the rest of my career and, honestly, my life.

He said, “Vicki, if you’re in marketing — or any creative, visionary field — you must always be chosen. You must never be inherited. The moment you become inherited, you begin to lose your spark.”

What he understood before I did was that I was working in an environment where I was tolerated rather than truly valued. My new boss had inherited me as part of the organization, but he had not chosen me for my ideas, my instincts, my energy, or my vision. And over time, that slowly dims your confidence, creativity, and passion.

That conversation became a turning point. I realized how important it is to place yourself in rooms, relationships, organizations, and opportunities where people genuinely see your value and want what you uniquely bring to the table. Not simply because you’ve always been there. Not because you came with the job. But because your voice, ideas, leadership, and presence matter.

As women — especially influential women — we often spend years trying to prove ourselves worthy of staying in spaces where we are merely tolerated. But the truth is, your brilliance expands when you are chosen, respected, and encouraged to fully show up as yourself.

That advice also shaped how I later led others. Whether mentoring entrepreneurs, building nonprofit movements, creating purpose-driven communities, or collaborating with teams, I always tried to make people feel seen, valued, and intentionally chosen. Because when people feel chosen, they bring their best selves forward.

Even now, at 80, I still believe protecting your spark matters. Your spark is your curiosity, your creativity, your voice, your courage, your purpose. Never stay anywhere — professionally or personally — that slowly asks you to dim it.

If I were advising younger women entering the workforce today, I would tell them this: do not build your future around industries that are disappearing faster than you can build a career inside them. The professional world I entered in the 1970s no longer exists. Entire careers in traditional marketing, advertising, promotion, media relations, and communications are being reinvented overnight by artificial intelligence, automation, and digital disruption.

I spent years writing press releases, cultivating relationships with reporters, pitching stories, and building campaigns through human connection and creativity. Today, AI can generate images, write copy, create marketing plans, edit videos, and design campaigns in minutes. The speed of change is breathtaking, and young women need to understand that they are not entering the workforce their parents entered — they are entering an entirely new economic era.

So my advice is not simply “follow your passion.” Passion matters, but strategy matters too.

Look toward fields that solve real problems and require human expertise, adaptability, and innovation — science, technology, medicine, engineering, cybersecurity, artificial intelligence, climate solutions, and advanced manufacturing. The trades are also dramatically undervalued. Skilled electricians, contractors, mechanics, healthcare technicians, and builders are increasingly indispensable in a world that still runs on human capability and practical skill.

I also strongly encourage young women to think entrepreneurially. The old model of staying with one company for 20 or 30 years is largely gone. I worked for organizations like the Credit Union National Association for years, building a long-term career inside one institution. That stability rarely exists today. The future belongs to people who can adapt, reinvent themselves, learn continuously, and create opportunities instead of waiting for someone else to hand them one.

Most importantly, never define yourself by a job title alone. Build transferable skills. Learn how to communicate, solve problems, lead people, think critically, and adapt to change. Technology will continue to evolve, industries will continue to disappear, and careers will continue to shift. But women who are resilient, curious, entrepreneurial, and willing to keep learning will always find a way forward.

And finally, do not be afraid to reinvent yourself multiple times. I have reinvented myself over and over throughout my life: from farm girl in rural Wisconsin to marketing executive, entrepreneur, nonprofit advocate, author, speaker, and purpose-driven leader. Reinvention is no longer optional. It is the survival skill of the 21st century.

One of the biggest opportunities in my field right now is what I call “the What’s Next movement.” There are millions of women — especially midlife and older women — who feel stuck, restless, invisible, burned out, or uncertain about what comes after the careers, roles, and identities they’ve carried for decades. They are asking themselves questions that are deeply personal and often frightening: Who am I now? What do I still have to contribute? What’s my next chapter?

That is where my work and my purpose business, My Future Purpose, comes in.

I believe purpose is not a luxury; it is essential to emotional, mental, and even physical well-being. People need a reason to get up in the morning that excites them so much they forget to have lunch because they are so engaged in living. Through our workshops, conversations, tools, and community, we help people discover which of our six “buckets of purpose” best aligns with who they are now — not who they were 20 years ago. Sometimes purpose is entrepreneurship. Sometimes it is creativity, service, mentoring, advocacy, learning, or simply finally permitting yourself to “do what the hell you want” and live with joy.

What excites me most is that the longevity revolution is creating an entirely new life stage that previous generations never had. Women are living longer, healthier, and more actively than ever before, yet society still acts as though life winds down after 60. I completely reject that narrative. I believe some of our most impactful, creative, and liberated years can happen later in life.

At the same time, one of my biggest current challenges — and greatest growth opportunities — has been becoming an author at 80. Writing From Woodstock to Wisdom was actually the easy part. Getting the book discovered in today’s overcrowded publishing and media world has been the real education. I have had to learn everything: publishing, distribution, metadata, branding, marketing, social media visibility, audiobook production, and how the entire independent publishing ecosystem works.

But I have always believed challenges are simply invitations to reinvent yourself again.

I recently made the decision to take full control of my publishing journey and move my book under my own publishing direction so I can shape its future independently. At 80, I am learning new technologies, mastering new systems, building new platforms, and proving to myself that reinvention does not have an expiration date.

The book itself has become far more than a memoir. It has become a conversation starter, a platform, and a bridge into larger discussions about aging, purpose, reinvention, visibility, and what I call the “Longevity Revolution.” Every story eventually leads back to one central question: What gives your life meaning now?

That question is also inspiring my next project, From Woodstock to Wisdom: Passing the Mic, where I plan to engage college students across the country in honest intergenerational conversations about the future, social responsibility, purpose, and what younger generations really think about Baby Boomers.

At this stage of my life, I no longer fear challenges. I expect them. Then I figure them out. That mindset may be the greatest opportunity of all.

The values that guide both my work and my personal life are remarkably simple: kindness, purpose, gratitude, and making people feel that they matter.

At 80, after surviving two cancers, building multiple careers, raising a family, navigating reinvention after reinvention, and witnessing both extraordinary joy and profound loss, I have come to believe that our real legacy is not our titles, awards, bank accounts, or accomplishments. It is how people felt after being in our presence.

People may forget what you said in a meeting. They may forget your résumé, your business card, or even the details of what you accomplished. But they will never forget how you treated them. They will remember whether you made them feel seen, valued, encouraged, respected, or invisible.

That belief shapes how I move through the world every day.

Not long ago, I was standing in line at a pharmacy when a young woman ahead of me realized she was four dollars short and could not afford her prescription. She was embarrassed, upset, and on the verge of tears. I quietly stepped forward, put my arm around her shoulder, and told her, “I have the four dollars. Please get your prescription.” She tried to refuse, but I insisted. We ended up hugging each other in the middle of CVS — two strangers connected by one small act of humanity.

That moment reminded me that kindness is never small. Especially now.

We are living in a world where people are exhausted, anxious, lonely, polarized, grieving, distracted, and often starving for human connection. The opportunity to be kind presents itself dozens of times every day, to the cashier, the waiter, the overwhelmed mother, the aging neighbor, the person standing behind you in the grocery line, or the friend quietly struggling in silence.

I have also become deeply aware of how much people need to know they mattered in someone else’s life. This year, instead of making a typical New Year’s resolution, I made a different commitment. I created a list of 52 people who have touched my heart or changed my life in some meaningful way. Every Friday, I send one handwritten card that simply says: “You matter.”

Inside, I write about how that person influenced me, encouraged me, loved me, inspired me, supported me, or changed my journey. It is one of the most meaningful things I have ever done. At this stage of life, I no longer want to assume people know how much they matter to me. I want them to hear it while we are both still here.

What I have become at 80 is not someone chasing success in the traditional sense. I have become someone who wants to leave emotional fingerprints on people’s lives. Someone who believes purpose without kindness is empty. Someone who understands that influence is not about followers or status — it is about lifting people up, making them feel valued, and reminding them they are not invisible.

In the end, I believe “mattering matters.” And if I can leave behind anything of lasting value, I hope it is that people walked away knowing they were seen, appreciated, encouraged, and loved.