Luise von Dürckheim

Luise von Dürckheim

  • Position: Founder
  • Experience:
  • Location: Meydan Grandstand, 6th Floor, Meydan Road, Nad Al Sheba, Dubai, UAE
  • Email: Luise@silvercontessa.com
  • Phone: +971 52 306 2407

Review Psychologist

"There is beauty in confidence, elegance in knowledge, and power in a woman who understands her worth at every stage of life."

I never set out to become a spokesperson for aging. But then again, life has a way of shaping us in unexpected ways.

I come from a lineage of strong, formidable women. My grandmother, a force of nature who lived through two world wars, raised five children, and crossed continents, lived to 95 with a fierce sense of purpose. My mother, at 82, is still a style icon, the embodiment of elegance and confidence. Between them, they shaped me—one instilling resilience, the other teaching me the power of personal style.

For much of my career, I lived in a world ruled by structure and discipline. I spent my twenties in the military, enduring rigorous training, pushing my limits, and learning that adaptability is survival. Later, I transitioned into the corporate world as a lawyer, where I navigated boardrooms and high-stakes contracts, quickly learning that true strength isn’t about speaking the loudest—it’s about standing firm in conviction and purpose.

But something shifted as I approached 50. One morning over coffee, I found myself thinking about the way we perceive aging in the West—how we treat it as something to be resisted rather than embraced. The more I explored, the clearer it became: this is not how it is everywhere.

In many cultures, aging is not a slow descent into irrelevance but an evolution into wisdom and respect. In Japan, older women are seen as the keepers of knowledge. In Indigenous communities, menopause is often viewed as a powerful transition, a shedding of one role and the stepping into another. Yet in the Western world, women over 50 are frequently sidelined, their contributions diminished, their voices softened.

I wasn’t having it.

"You are not withering; you are sharpening. Time doesn’t diminish you—it carves you into something rare and formidable."

That’s when Silver Contessa took shape. I wanted to create a space where aging isn’t something to be feared but celebrated. A platform where women—and men—could navigate midlife with strength, authenticity, and adventure. I knew I wanted to travel, to listen to stories, to document the beauty of aging across different cultures and share these insights with the world. A photo reportage book, a community, a movement—something that challenges the outdated notion that our best years are behind us.

But there was another realization.

It wasn’t just women struggling with aging. Men were just as lost.

I started noticing the disconnect—the growing chasm between husbands and wives, partners who once shared everything now struggling to understand each other. Women going through menopause were changing, not just physically but emotionally. Meanwhile, men, often bewildered by these changes, found themselves feeling shut out, confused, and even rejected.

No one was talking about it openly.

That’s why Silver Contessa isn’t just about women reclaiming their space—it’s about helping both men and women navigate this stage of life together. It’s about honest conversations. About breaking through the myths surrounding menopause, intimacy, and aging. About helping couples rediscover connection rather than growing apart.

This isn’t about clinging to youth. It’s about redefining what midlife looks like—on our own terms. It’s about dressing how we want, traveling where we want, embracing adventure, and rejecting the idea that life after 50 is about fading into the background.

I have no interest in being ‘age-appropriate.’ I have no intention of retreating quietly into a smaller, more acceptable version of myself. And I know I’m not alone in that.

So, Silver Contessa is my invitation to those who refuse to shrink. To those who want to enter this next phase of life with fire, humour, and an unapologetic sense of self.

This is not the end of anything. It’s just the beginning.