There’s something oddly liberating about getting older. Maybe it’s the way I no longer feel the need to impress anyone. Or the way I can wear short pants to dinner and nobody questions it. But getting older — especially in retirement — is a mixed bag. Some days I feel like I’ve got the whole world figured out, and other days, I forget why I walked into the kitchen. These are things that happen, basically the best and worst parts of getting older that are the new reality!
Still, aging is a journey. And like any good journey, it comes with some breathtaking views… and a few potholes. I figured it’s time I put it all out there, not just to commiserate, but to offer a little guidance for anyone traveling this road behind me.
Let’s start with the good news first — because honestly, we’ve earned it.
One of the best things about getting older is finally having the time to do what I want. After decades of working, raising a family, clocking in, showing up, and stressing out, retirement has opened a whole new chapter. I wake up most mornings without an alarm. I don’t have to navigate rush hour traffic. And I can take a nap at 2:00 in the afternoon and call it “strategic rest.” The freedom is real, and it’s glorious.
Another wonderful surprise? I care less about what people think. That doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being polite — I still hold doors and say thank you. But I no longer obsess over whether my opinions, clothes, or choices are “cool.” That kind of self-confidence sneaks up on you, like a cat you didn’t notice creeping into the room. One day you realize you’re done apologizing for being yourself. It’s a strange kind of super-power – quiet, steady, and deeply satisfying.
Also, can I just say — I’ve never laughed harder than I do these days. Maybe it’s because I’ve finally let go of trying to seem dignified all the time. Maybe it’s because I’ve collected so many hilarious stories over the years that I can pull one out like a party trick. Or maybe it’s because I’ve learned to find the humor in things I used to take way too seriously — like back pain, insurance claims, and why prescription bottles are labeled in size 4 font.
I also find that friendships mean more now. I don’t need a huge circle anymore. I value the folks who stick around, who call just to check in, who send me corny memes that make me snort tea through my nose. The older I get, the more I understand that people are the true wealth in life. Not the bank account, not the house, not even the good China – though I do still have a soft spot for that.
Now, before I start sounding like a greeting card, let me admit there are some less-than-glamorous parts of aging. For starters, let’s talk about the body. Things change. Things ache. Things droop. One day I was jogging five miles a day; the next I was Googling “knee braces that don’t look like medieval torture devices.” My back has started cracking like bubble wrap every time I get out of bed. And don’t get me started on trying to get up off the floor after playing with the grandkids — it’s less of a movement and more of a multi-phase operation.
I also didn’t expect to spend so much time at the doctor’s office. It seems like every part of me has a specialist now — a cardiologist for my heart, a podiatrist for my feet, an audiologist for my hearing. I half expect to find a parking spot with my name on it at this point. I’ve learned to keep a folder with all my medical records because remembering which test I had when is like trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube blindfolded.
And speaking of hearing — what is it with restaurants getting louder every year? I’m not sure if the music’s getting louder or my patience is getting shorter, but these days I choose where to eat based on whether I can actually hear the person sitting across from me. Somewhere around 65, I also stopped pretending to like crowded events. Give me a quiet booth, a good cup of coffee, and someone who doesn’t mind if I talk about my bowel schedule — that’s my idea of a great night out.
Technology has also become a bit of a nemesis. I used to think I was pretty savvy. But now I find myself working hard to make new apps work on my phone. I once spent ten minutes trying to figure out how to turn off the subtitles on Netflix, only to give up and just pretend I was watching a foreign film. It’s not that I’m against new tech — I just need a manual written by someone who understands that I don’t know what an “in-app purchase” is and frankly, I don’t want to.
Another tough part of aging? Loss. This is the one no one prepares you for. Friends get sick. People pass away. Holidays look different. Some chairs around the table are permanently empty. It hurts in a way I didn’t understand when I was younger. Grief, I’ve learned, doesn’t follow a schedule. It sneaks up on you in the grocery store, in the middle of a song, or while you’re folding laundry. But it’s also proof that love doesn’t go away. It just changes shape.
There’s also this strange tug-of-war between feeling invisible and being underestimated. I can’t count how many times I’ve had someone explain something to me like I’ve never seen a computer before, or talk louder just because I’ve got gray hair, or even try to help me use my debit card at the checkout counter! On the flip side, I’ve learned that invisibility has its perks. I can eavesdrop in line, wear mismatched socks to the pharmacy, and stroll right past the trendy chaos of youth without even blinking. It’s oddly freeing.
Despite all this, getting older has made me more grateful. Not in a syrupy, everything-is-wonderful kind of way — but in a real, grounded, eyes-wide-open kind of way. I don’t take good health for granted. I appreciate a sunny day. I stop to pet dogs I meet on the sidewalk. I’ve learned that joy isn’t in the big moments — it’s in the quiet ones. A cup of tea. A phone call from someone I love. A good book and no interruptions.
If I had any advice to pass along to others walking this path, it would be this: embrace the weird. Aging isn’t always elegant, but it can be hilarious, profound, and deeply rich if you let it. Keep your sense of humor intact — it’s more important than any vitamin. Stay curious — learning doesn’t stop at 65. And surround yourself with people who lift you up — even if it’s just to help you reach the top shelf.
I’ve also made peace with the fact that I’m a work in progress, even now. I’m still figuring things out. I still mess up. I still get stubborn. But I’m also still growing. And honestly, that’s kind of wonderful.
So here I am — older, grayer, maybe a little slower — but also wiser, funnier, and more comfortable in my own skin than I’ve ever been. Getting older isn’t always easy. But it’s not all bad. In fact, some of it is pretty great.
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Happy retirement planning!