Yuen: She never got her quinceañera. So friends threw her one at 51.

Maria Zambrano’s quinceañera carried many of the signature trappings of the milestone sweet 15th celebration. A DJ, a tiara, lavish ballroom gowns and lots of dancing, replete with a court of honor to help waltz her transition into adulthood.

But Zambrano has been an adult for a long time. She just turned 51.

The quinceañera that Zambrano only dreamed of having as a teen finally came true, thanks to doting girlfriends who were determined to celebrate her life. Latinas in their 50s are increasingly choosing to be honored at these epic celebrations. On TikTok, videos show middle-aged women twirling in tulle and dancing with their grown daughters.

The cincuentañera — a middle-aged twist on the rite of passage for 15-year-old girls — may seem unusual. How often are mothers and grandmothers acknowledged, let alone expected to be the center of attention?

Perhaps the rise of the midlife soirées in recent years speaks to how women are redefining getting older. No more “over the hill” parties once you hit 50. No need to lie about one’s age. May I speak for middle-aged women everywhere when I say we are not going gently anywhere. We are just getting started.

“I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I’m high on life, and I love to dance,” Zambrano told me.

A quinceañera can be as extravagant as a wedding. Yet grandstanding was not important to Zambrano, who said the night was more about gratitude than glam.

Zambrano never had a quinceañera because two weeks before she turned 15, she gave birth to her first child. She remembers the labor and delivery as a traumatic experience. A child herself, she didn’t know how to care for her own kid; she remembers her Mexican-immigrant father coming home one day from his job working the forklift, showing her how to give her baby a bath.

She’s never had a birthday party since becoming a mom. “That would seem weird,” Zambrano said.

She eventually raised eight kids, surviving some abusive relationships along the way. Now she’s the legal guardian of both a grown daughter and son who have complex neurodevelopmental or mental health needs, as well as a granddaughter who has autism.

Zambrano’s dedication to her friends and family, often behind the scenes, is what inspired her friends to go all out for her birthday.

Angelita Rosales, who hosted the party, said she wanted to give back to Zambrano. Both women grew up on the West Side of St. Paul. “There is also something about when you know someone’s history,” she said. “She became a mom so young and didn’t mess around.”

Katie Aviña got to know Zambrano’s children well when they attended a St. Paul charter school she runs. She said they’ve all grown up to be amazing humans, and “that wouldn’t be if they didn’t have an amazing mom.”

Aviña equates becoming an elder to undergoing a second coming-of-age. “You have a different perspective on life, and it’s something that’s just as beautiful and should be celebrated,” she said. “It’s OK to accept the next stage of life.”

Zambrano said even though she grew up without money, her grandmother taught her to make do with what they had. Everything in the fridge belonged to everyone. (Blocks of “welfare cheese” sometimes made the best homemade quesadillas, after all.) Those lessons of sharing and looking after another resonated on a night when friends and family came together to honor Zambrano.

The party ended with everyone plunging into the swimming pool.

Zambrano took stock of her life at a half-century old: Many years of hardship, sweetened by the warmth and devotion of friends.