EPISODE 001 | Welcome to Crone Rising (aka, Who the Hell is Lee Currie?)

In this debut episode of Crone Rising, your host, Lee Currie, shares the heart and soul behind this podcast - why it was created, who it's for, and what you can expect. This is a love letter to all the women who are done shrinking, silencing, and sidelining themselves. It's for the seekers, the storytellers, and the sovereigns-in-the-making. 

Join me as we reimagine the Crone, not as an ending, but as a beginning - powerful, visible, and vibrant. 

Key topics covered:

• Visibility in midlife
• The Crone as a feminist archetype
• Storytelling as legacy work
• Making space for joy, rebellion, and reinvention
• Why this podcast exists

After you listen to the podcast, answer this: What does rising mean to you right now?

Come share with us on Instagram - or send a quick note to hello@leecurrie.com.

Follow along @crone.rising.official on Instagram or drop by Crone Rising on Substack for behind-the-scenes stories, quotes, and conversation prompts. 

Crone Rising is for every woman who’s done being quiet and done being small. We’re not here to fade. We’re here to rise — unapologetic, unmuted, and unmissable.

Connect with Lee Currie

Subscribe, share, and leave a review if Crone Rising resonates. Your voice matters. 

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:14

Welcome to Crown Rising, where we take up space without apology, which may prove a challenge for this Canadian, and remind the world that women don't just disappear after 40, or 50, or 60, or ever. You're in the right place if you've ever felt overlooked, underestimated, or just plain dismissed. I'm your host, Lee Curry, and let's get one thing clear right now. I have no intention of fading into the background. None. This podcast is for women who've lived, who've learned, who've loved, who have stories to tell. And zero patience left for the nonsense we've been fed about what aging is supposed to look like. Because here's the deal Society loves women when they're young, shiny, and full of potential. But the moment we stop performing, stop pleasing, stop caring what others think, stop shrinking, when we know down to our bones who we are and what we have to offer the world, that's when they start pushing us aside. Well, that doesn't work for me. If you're listening to this, I have a feeling it doesn't work for you either. The podcast is about reclaiming, taking up space, rejecting the idea that we should fade quietly into the background, living unapologetically in a world that would rather we go quietly. Our crone era is here. Bold, fierce, gloriously wild, and fully expressed. So let's get started. The question I ask every woman on this show is simple, but it hits the mark. How do you maintain your relevance in a society that wants you to be invisible? Some women nod, others bristle. A few get mad, and I love that fire. But the fact that the question even needs to be asked and is universally understood upon the asking tells you everything you need to know. So before I ask it of my guests, I'll answer it myself. I wish I could say that I've always been confident, know my worth, that I came into this world loud, proud, and certain. But truth, I spent years, decades trying to be what others needed me to be. Trying to fit into a mold that was never meant for me. Growing up, I was consistently told, tone it down, or don't be too loud, don't be too opinionated, don't make other people uncomfortable by asking too many questions. The worst was get out of the way. I tried to be the right amount of smart, curious, outspoken, likable. And let me tell you, it was exhausting. To add to the frustration, it didn't help that the goalposts kept moving. I grew up surrounded by women, some strong, others weak. I have younger sisters, attended all girls' schools, and live in an all-women dorm. And then in a plot twist I had no hand in, I ended up working in the male-dominated grocery industry. And let me tell you, even after growing up in it, it was a shock to the system. The women who did make it in that space, of which I was one, they, well, we weren't exactly throwing down the ladder to the women climbing up behind us. We have been taught to win, you have to play like a man. The truth is this that was a losing strategy. It didn't work. We were trying to play a game that wasn't designed for us. We lost out on something essential. We traded community for competition, connection for compliance. That's the old game. It's not one I'm interested in playing anymore. I'm looking for the unwavering support of other women who get it. A sisterhood. That's what I want Cronising to be. A supportive space where we lift each other up instead of tearing each other down. I played the roles I was given, and I played them well until the script stopped working. Divorced, single parent to four teenagers, trying to keep it all together while quietly falling apart. That's when I realized something simple but profound. No one was coming to give me permission. If I wanted to be seen, I had to show up. If I wanted to be heard, I had to speak up. If I wanted to be valued, I had to stop waiting for someone else to hand me my worth. And that that was my wake-up call. Now let's talk about the word that got us here. Crone. Yes, I chose it on purpose. And yes, I know it makes some people twitch. But long before patriarchy turned her into a punchline, the crone was the most respected woman in the village. She was the one people went to for healing, for guidance, for truth. She was powerful, unapologetic, whole, feared. They decided that a woman with knowledge and experience was dangerous. So they rewrote the story. They reduced the crone to a bitter, dried up villain, a hag, something to mock, to fear, and at all costs avoid becoming. But here's what I know. To me, being a crone means I've lived. I know myself. I've seen some things. I've made mistakes. I've got regrets. I've learned. I've lost. And I'm no longer performing for the world's approval. I no longer need validation to speak to or be to that woman. She's powerful. And power like that doesn't disappear. It rises. I've stepped into who I really am. To be a crone is to be done with performing. A crone is whole within herself, radically herself, unbothered, untamed, unapologetically wise. There's nothing more dangerous to the status quo than a woman who is completely herself with nothing left to prove. One of the biggest lies we've been sold is that aging is a loss. That as we grow older, we somehow lose value. We should be graceful about fading into the background, as if it were some tragic loss, instead of being the biggest power move of our lives. Let me be clear. Aging isn't the problem. The problem is the stories we've been told about it. I don't worry about whether I'm too much for people. If I am, they're not my people. Once I made peace with that, everything changed. I refuse to apologize for aging, to shrink myself to for anyone's comfort. I refuse to let the world tell me what I can't do because I'm not young and naive anymore. At 25, I was all sparkle and speed, trying to prove, trying to please, trying to earn that seat at the table. I filled the silence with noise, noise that sounded like busy, like needed, like successful. I worried about being liked, chosen, wanted. At 60, I know better. I know the power of quiet, of discernment, of choosing myself without hesitation. I no longer need to be everyone's cup of tea. I'm content to be bitter to some, energizing to others, but never watered down. Every year I get better, more grounded, more true, more me. I'm rooted in myself. I no longer wait for permission to take up space or need proof that I'm worthy. I know I am. My boundaries are firm, my voice is steady, and I have no interest in softening my edges to make others comfortable. I see through the bullshit quicker. I sit in stillness without needing to fill it. I have traded urgency for depth, proving for presence, and pleasing for peace. At 25, I sought the light, assuming wisdom was in the bright, obvious places. At 60, I understand the dark, and I know the best things grow in shadow first. Here's the truth. Every year I get better. We get better, wiser, stronger, less interested in noise. And honestly, it's liberating. Aging strips away the things that don't matter. The insecurities, the need to be liked, the energy wasted on things that in the end mean nothing. My best years are not behind me. I know what feeds me, and I won't settle for crumbs. I get better not in spite of aging, because of it. And that's what keeps me relevant. So what can you expect from this podcast? Real conversations. No fluff, no youth in a jar promises, no supporting industries and media that undermine us, no hacks, no filters, no lies. They don't exist in this space. Just truth, story, rebellion, resilience, and probably some swearing. Laughter too, because if we're not laughing at the absurdity of it all, what's the point? Every week I'll have conversations with women who've lived through some things and have the scars which have alchemized into wisdom to show for it. We'll talk about aging, ambition, identity, relationships, reinvention, passion, and everything in between. Hell. We'll talk about whatever we feel like talking about, whatever my guest brings to the table. And if it doesn't fit the brand, even better. This isn't about being marketable. It's about being real. It's their time. It's your time. I'm simply the host. I'll be bringing on guests who get it. Regular women, your neighbors and friends, your sisters, your lovers, women who have lived, women who have something to say, and women who refuse to accept invisibility. I want Crone Rising to be more than a podcast. I want it to be a movement, a deep conversation, a circle of connection, a space to take back what's been missing, a place where you remember that you are not done. We're not done. We are still rising. And if you're still with me, take this with you. You are not too old. You are not irrelevant. You are not finished. You are rising. And when women rise together, we are unstoppable. Until next time, take up space, own your story, and keep rising.