Maybe being middle aged is like being middle class, everyone always thinking they're middle class whether they make $40k or $240k, and thinking they're middle aged whether they're 37 or 57? Maybe it's just one of those slippery-by-nature categories. I do like what people sometimes say about 40--that it's the old age of youth--and 50--that it's the youth of old age. Those feel like more reliable, weight-bearing sentiments.
I know I'm not in the middle of my chronological life anymore, but I'm still in the middle of things, still in the middle of my work, among family and friends, amid life's great pageant. Maybe the real end of middle age is when you begin to withdraw from all or some of the above, by choice or by circumstance.
Recently I saw “Past Lives” a very tender and wise film about a young Korean-American woman playwright torn between a visiting Korean childhood sweetheart and her white-American writer husband. All in their 20’s. All in Manhattan--like me.
I identified so keenly with each that when I walked out of the theater I had to remind myself that I was 85.
Twice.
Let’s split the difference and say I’m now “middle-aged”.
First, my favorite joke. What are the three stages of life? Childhood, adulthood, and "you look wonderful!" Sari's story is a perfect example of a life stage being conferred by someone else's perception of her. Middle age is especially thorny because when you get to the "compared to what?" part it is about no-longer-young AND not-yet-old, given the bookends. Since middle age for me is so far in the rear view mirror, I have only one differentiator and it's the fear factor. If you're terrified about growing older and especially about losing your looks, you're middle aged no matter how old you are. It can be a miserable, fear-governed time of life with a lot of time spent staring in the mirror. Old age is the opposite--freedom from fear, studious avoidance of mirrors, acknowledgement of diminished capacity both physical and mental, and acceptance of mortality, with increasing gratitude for every minute of every day. But that's just me.
I usually do thirds-0-30, 30-60, 60-90. Mostly because I like how it divides and feels slightly magical and fits the Maiden/Mother/Crone kind of model. At 54 I am, as another commenter shared, in the youth of my old age, or at the curve of that middle section where the Crone years are coming up. Since I've gone through menopause, I qualify cronewise, but it's all confusing. Middle of my life? Past the midpoint certainly, and some of that is scary and some of that is a relief.
At 66, I have to ask, why do we need these labels at all? My mind and body are still strong, My face is comparatively unwrinkled (without any medical intervention), my hair is happily silvering. I feel much younger in my soul. Am I elderly? Am I a senior citizen? Am I still middle aged?
I have long had this schema in my head, admittedly skewed by my own experience as a woman in good health and good shape:
Teens and 20s is "young."
Around 30 you transition to the "middle-aged young."
Early 40s is the "old young."
Late 40s is the transition to "middle age."
Mid-60s is the transition to the "young old."
"Young old" can last till your mid-70s depending on health.
After that you can't stave off "old" anymore. But for some there's a whole decade of active "middle-aged old."
Mid- to late 80s, if you're still around, you become one of the "old old."
For the record, I'm 77 and am still doing karate which I've studied for 50 years. I'm also involved in the Feldenkrais Method, which can transform the experience of being old. But it's still "old." I was rather shocked to discover that for all our medical progress, "three score and ten" is still the basic helping. Anything after that is gravy. More people are getting more gravy, is all. And it isn't always good gravy.
It's really upsetting to me when people say the term "middle-aged" starts in your 40s. What does that make me at 68...elderly?? I feel YOUNG. A label is just a label, of course, but I can't help but cringe when I hear certain words that bring up all sorts of (negative) images for people.
I had a single friend in his early 50s recently tell me he couldn't date women in their 60s, and I was all, "Dude, I'm going to be 60 next year, do I seem that too old to you?" Most of my work cohort for the last few years has been 15-20 years my junior at least, including my boss. I played with the mortality calculators recently; if I continue on my trajectory, I might make 89, which is quite senior. There's no term for 2/3 aged that isn't just "senior" or "old." I recently decided that I would just say fuck it and take the discount.
GenX person here. Can we just, like, designate more life stages? "Middle age" doesn't mean shit to most of us, and it's not broad enough to cover the whole enchilada. For that matter, I hate all the "maiden, mother, crone" shit. Any woman who makes it to age 50 is a QUEEN. For the rest of her life. YOU'RE WELCOME!
I’m on the cusp of 70, just two weeks away from no longer being able to deny old age. If I don’t think about it, how old or at what stage of life I am doesn’t matter. My mind, body and attitude all allow me to fully participate in life as if nothing has aged (just back this morning from 10 days of daily hiking in the Italian Alps followed by a week of daily cycling in central France). Photos are the truth bomb, however. I avoid having pictures of me taken as if it matters that I’ve become as wizened as Gandalf. Inevitably, something physically, mentally and/or emotionally will give out, but until then, I’ll keep on keeping on, age be damned.
I tend to think that “middle aged” describes people who’ve got a good amount of adulthood - adult experiences and responsibilities - under their belt, but who aren’t yet facing the possibilities of physical decline that come later in life. Note that I said “possibility” of physical decline, since actual decline comes for people at different rates, depending on a lot of factors, including luck. So, something like 40-65 is middle aged, to me.
I know that a lot of people resist the categories of middle aged and old (or older) because they “feel young” but I wonder if that’s because they feel vibrant and alive and open to new experiences, ideas, and people. But I think middle aged and old people can feel that way too! I don’t “feel young” because I’m very aware of my long history, the many chapters and experiences of my life (I’m 54) but I do feel like a vibrant and open middle aged person heading towards, I hope, a vibrant and open old age!
In 2019, my husband and I went to a Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile concert. I was 38, my husband 42. We had a joint to smoke, but no lighter, so we went up to some people outside the show and asked for a light and shared our joint. (I had never done this in my life, lol). We were talking to one of the women, who was very young--maybe 23? She and I are just chatting and then she says, "You guys are such cool old people." COOL OLD PEOPLE. My husband just chuckled as I squeezed his arm to putty. We still say it to each other all the time. And I wasn't even 40 yet!!!
When I turned 60, my office mates threw a party for me. As we clinked champagne glasses, I made the innocuous-to-me comment that I was now 2/3 done with my life. Pin-drop silence, then protests. But think about it -- 30, 60, 90. Maybe use those parameters -- although we need a better term for the last 1/3.
I’ll know when exactly the middle-portion of my life was right after I’ve died.
But, living, I noticed an abrupt change between 40 and 41. Where things falling apart in body and mind became rapid. I’m 43. I don’t feel young anymore.
With this came the realization that even if other people live to 60, 70, 80, 90 -- ... there’s nothing guaranteeing *I* will.
The stage of life I’m in now is a markéd stage for me. I don’t know that I have a fitting name for it yet.
Maybe being middle aged is like being middle class, everyone always thinking they're middle class whether they make $40k or $240k, and thinking they're middle aged whether they're 37 or 57? Maybe it's just one of those slippery-by-nature categories. I do like what people sometimes say about 40--that it's the old age of youth--and 50--that it's the youth of old age. Those feel like more reliable, weight-bearing sentiments.
You’re only as young as your lower back…
I know I'm not in the middle of my chronological life anymore, but I'm still in the middle of things, still in the middle of my work, among family and friends, amid life's great pageant. Maybe the real end of middle age is when you begin to withdraw from all or some of the above, by choice or by circumstance.
Recently I saw “Past Lives” a very tender and wise film about a young Korean-American woman playwright torn between a visiting Korean childhood sweetheart and her white-American writer husband. All in their 20’s. All in Manhattan--like me.
I identified so keenly with each that when I walked out of the theater I had to remind myself that I was 85.
Twice.
Let’s split the difference and say I’m now “middle-aged”.
First, my favorite joke. What are the three stages of life? Childhood, adulthood, and "you look wonderful!" Sari's story is a perfect example of a life stage being conferred by someone else's perception of her. Middle age is especially thorny because when you get to the "compared to what?" part it is about no-longer-young AND not-yet-old, given the bookends. Since middle age for me is so far in the rear view mirror, I have only one differentiator and it's the fear factor. If you're terrified about growing older and especially about losing your looks, you're middle aged no matter how old you are. It can be a miserable, fear-governed time of life with a lot of time spent staring in the mirror. Old age is the opposite--freedom from fear, studious avoidance of mirrors, acknowledgement of diminished capacity both physical and mental, and acceptance of mortality, with increasing gratitude for every minute of every day. But that's just me.
I usually do thirds-0-30, 30-60, 60-90. Mostly because I like how it divides and feels slightly magical and fits the Maiden/Mother/Crone kind of model. At 54 I am, as another commenter shared, in the youth of my old age, or at the curve of that middle section where the Crone years are coming up. Since I've gone through menopause, I qualify cronewise, but it's all confusing. Middle of my life? Past the midpoint certainly, and some of that is scary and some of that is a relief.
At 66, I have to ask, why do we need these labels at all? My mind and body are still strong, My face is comparatively unwrinkled (without any medical intervention), my hair is happily silvering. I feel much younger in my soul. Am I elderly? Am I a senior citizen? Am I still middle aged?
No, I am just me.
I have long had this schema in my head, admittedly skewed by my own experience as a woman in good health and good shape:
Teens and 20s is "young."
Around 30 you transition to the "middle-aged young."
Early 40s is the "old young."
Late 40s is the transition to "middle age."
Mid-60s is the transition to the "young old."
"Young old" can last till your mid-70s depending on health.
After that you can't stave off "old" anymore. But for some there's a whole decade of active "middle-aged old."
Mid- to late 80s, if you're still around, you become one of the "old old."
For the record, I'm 77 and am still doing karate which I've studied for 50 years. I'm also involved in the Feldenkrais Method, which can transform the experience of being old. But it's still "old." I was rather shocked to discover that for all our medical progress, "three score and ten" is still the basic helping. Anything after that is gravy. More people are getting more gravy, is all. And it isn't always good gravy.
It's really upsetting to me when people say the term "middle-aged" starts in your 40s. What does that make me at 68...elderly?? I feel YOUNG. A label is just a label, of course, but I can't help but cringe when I hear certain words that bring up all sorts of (negative) images for people.
I had a single friend in his early 50s recently tell me he couldn't date women in their 60s, and I was all, "Dude, I'm going to be 60 next year, do I seem that too old to you?" Most of my work cohort for the last few years has been 15-20 years my junior at least, including my boss. I played with the mortality calculators recently; if I continue on my trajectory, I might make 89, which is quite senior. There's no term for 2/3 aged that isn't just "senior" or "old." I recently decided that I would just say fuck it and take the discount.
GenX person here. Can we just, like, designate more life stages? "Middle age" doesn't mean shit to most of us, and it's not broad enough to cover the whole enchilada. For that matter, I hate all the "maiden, mother, crone" shit. Any woman who makes it to age 50 is a QUEEN. For the rest of her life. YOU'RE WELCOME!
I’m on the cusp of 70, just two weeks away from no longer being able to deny old age. If I don’t think about it, how old or at what stage of life I am doesn’t matter. My mind, body and attitude all allow me to fully participate in life as if nothing has aged (just back this morning from 10 days of daily hiking in the Italian Alps followed by a week of daily cycling in central France). Photos are the truth bomb, however. I avoid having pictures of me taken as if it matters that I’ve become as wizened as Gandalf. Inevitably, something physically, mentally and/or emotionally will give out, but until then, I’ll keep on keeping on, age be damned.
I tend to think that “middle aged” describes people who’ve got a good amount of adulthood - adult experiences and responsibilities - under their belt, but who aren’t yet facing the possibilities of physical decline that come later in life. Note that I said “possibility” of physical decline, since actual decline comes for people at different rates, depending on a lot of factors, including luck. So, something like 40-65 is middle aged, to me.
I know that a lot of people resist the categories of middle aged and old (or older) because they “feel young” but I wonder if that’s because they feel vibrant and alive and open to new experiences, ideas, and people. But I think middle aged and old people can feel that way too! I don’t “feel young” because I’m very aware of my long history, the many chapters and experiences of my life (I’m 54) but I do feel like a vibrant and open middle aged person heading towards, I hope, a vibrant and open old age!
In 2019, my husband and I went to a Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile concert. I was 38, my husband 42. We had a joint to smoke, but no lighter, so we went up to some people outside the show and asked for a light and shared our joint. (I had never done this in my life, lol). We were talking to one of the women, who was very young--maybe 23? She and I are just chatting and then she says, "You guys are such cool old people." COOL OLD PEOPLE. My husband just chuckled as I squeezed his arm to putty. We still say it to each other all the time. And I wasn't even 40 yet!!!
When I turned 60, my office mates threw a party for me. As we clinked champagne glasses, I made the innocuous-to-me comment that I was now 2/3 done with my life. Pin-drop silence, then protests. But think about it -- 30, 60, 90. Maybe use those parameters -- although we need a better term for the last 1/3.
I’ll know when exactly the middle-portion of my life was right after I’ve died.
But, living, I noticed an abrupt change between 40 and 41. Where things falling apart in body and mind became rapid. I’m 43. I don’t feel young anymore.
With this came the realization that even if other people live to 60, 70, 80, 90 -- ... there’s nothing guaranteeing *I* will.
The stage of life I’m in now is a markéd stage for me. I don’t know that I have a fitting name for it yet.