I’ll tell you what I don’t do at age 55: I don’t cry over boyfriends, I don’t worry about missed periods, and I don’t give a single fuck what anyone thinks of me. Boom.
Great article! I just turned 70 and broke my shoulder then my wrist last year within 5 months (yes I’m now taking medication for osteoporosis). But I also kayak, dance, go camping, deadlift 100 pounds, travel, and laugh with friends—a lot. I have much more energy than I did 10 years ago. It’s all good!
What a wonderful reminder that at all ages, things break: hearts, bones, dreams, relationships, and the list goes on. Yet, each day (I am 61), we make the choice you spoke of-to live life our way. Thank you for this reminder to do so!
I love this--it’s inspiration for this “old” 47-year-old. This year I realized that my body has really aged in the last three years and would not continue to support me unless I support it. So I’ve committed to moving again (why do we stop moving after the kids grow up and move out?!), hydrating my skin, stretching, soaking in salt baths, and just generally being more kind to it.
Thank you for reminding me that there’s so much left to enjoy--and they are probably some of the best things!
I was an un-fun 20-30 something. It wasn’t until I reached my 40s, that some of the pressure to have fun in certain ways (mostly involving alcohol and other people) felt lifted. Traveling, trying new crafts and activities, going to a book reading or just staying home and reading the book are all fun to me. I have most of my fun moments by myself, because I live alone, but enjoy getting out when I can with others. I’ve never been an extrovert who makes friends easily, so there are limitations on how much I see other people. Going to a movie, museum, or cooking class alone is fun for me. I appreciate that my definition of fun can be broader now.
You speak for so many of us. I love the mix of humor and emotional heft in your writing. I hope you continue to heal and reclaim more pieces of the things you love to do.
So much in this article resonated with me. Thank you, and heal well.
This last year I turned 70. I spent much of that year making paintings to be given to dear friends who were also turning 70. I believe I made six of these paintings. We had birthday parties for each other, laughed hard, had good discussions, were so grateful for our long-time friendships. Love is still very much a part of these “old” person’s lives.
Hah, I love! Mine is in storage (for now), no telling what will happen after my surgery. You might want to keep it if you have the space, just in case! You do live in Floridah (not a typo) after all. I miss the ocean and palm trees but not the politics. The church donation is a lovely gesture.
Jan 3, 2023·edited Jan 3, 2023Liked by Sari Botton
I still have my walker, from my knee replacement surgery five years ago. It lives in the garage on a shelf, along with my backpacks and other camping gear, all of which I still use a lot—unlike that walker! But who knows, the other knee may have to get swapped out at some point, so I keep it. Meanwhile, the shower chair I also needed post-surgery now serves as a footrest under my desk!
thank you so much for your humour (yes, that's how we spell it in the UK) and the clear voice addressing change. our bodies and minds change while our spirit remains strong. my 77year-old self is much more conscious than my 27 year-old self, though i too pinned that very same badge on my denim jacket and wore it with pride!
I'm over 45 and under 60. I have a titanium ankle and and a titanium knee, and here's what I do: travel to music festivals, play flute in a community orchestra, go on Turner Classic Movies cruises, buy antiques at sometimes inflated prices (if I *really* want it), say "no" to things that are not a "hell yes!", say "no" to people who are not a "hell yes!", and enjoy the wisdom that comes with age while I watch the younger set try to figure it out. I sit back and laugh, actually.
I really want to like this article; I really do. But I'm both old and multiply disabled, and I can't get past the disparaging comment about drooling and Depends. Because the truth is, there are many people (of all ages) who DO "sit around drooling" on themselves and waiting for someone to change their Depends, and those people are not deserving of ridicule or mockery. Yeah, the original tweet is ageist. But there are plenty of ways to answer to that and correct ridiculous ageist assumptions without throwing disabled people under the bus by using us as cannon fodder for an anti-ageist defense. In fact, the kind of ageist assumption this article pushes back against is virtually identical to one of the most common oppressively biased tropes about disabled people. That is something older folks and disabled people have in common, not something either group should use to distance itself from the other. This article is essentially saying, "Oh come on, don't be silly! We're not ALL just like THEM, just because we're old." And THAT is pretty darn ableist.
LC, what you wrote is true enough, but nobody ever envisions themselves in the next category of disabled until it happens. It takes first hand knowledge of disability, or secondhand knowledge through family or friends for most of us to realize it can/will happen to us, and to stop putting people into "at least I am not like them" categories. I have a disabled daughter and had a mother in a wheelchair and depends. I myself have drooled because of meds, and now have to wear pads for the same reason. I am 69, and tore my meniscus and needed a walker. My PT wants me to use a cane, which I do on uneven ground. And I am headed into a form of dementia that takes away language. People are people, and we are all on a one way journey.
Eileen, you don't need to stick to grief writing. It was a lovely piece apart from the one gaffe, and i am sure you won't make that mistake again. In fact, growing old (and disabled) entails loss and grief for what is past or for what never was. We all have to let go.
Ann, I understand what you are saying, and in retrospect, I can see that my original comment probably comes across as more harsh and criticizing than I intended. As I have made plenty of my own gaffes regarding oppressed groups of which I am not a member, I know how easy it is to do that without intending to, so I do not mean for my comments to ever vilify or guilt-trip the person I am responding to. That being said, one of the foundational elements of every form of oppression is an unconscious cultural assumption ("socialization," which we have all been subjected to) that whatever traits target a particular group make "them" distinctly different from "us," (if we are not a member of the group) and therefore worthy of marginalization. Many (but definitely not all) forms of oppression are based on static traits that won't ever apply to those who aren't targeted, so knowing that it can/will happen to us at some point should not be the deciding factor that makes people more aware and compassionate about the experience of any oppressed groups, whether it is the old, the disabled, or any other group. What we (all of us) need to do, if we sincerely want to lessen the constant (and almost always unintentional) harm caused to targeted people is to be willing to acknowledge when we have done harm (regardless of our intentions), offer repair if appropriate, and then learn to do better. (Which, BTW, Eileen did wonderfully, and with great care, in her response to my comment).
I agree, and I apologize. I'd be interested in your feedback on a story on my Substack, called Anyone Can Do This. Please let me know if I have unconsciously tripped up here, despite my sincere efforts. The story is in three parts, and can be read or listened to.
No,no,no! One gaff does not mean you should not be doing what you are doing. My intention in my comment was not to suggest you should not write on the subject. I was sincere when I said I really wanted to like the article because otherwise, you really do have great thoughts to share! Please keep writing. 🙂
I consider myself a definite late-bloomer in terms of my writing—first book published at age 50!—and when I am considering a challenge that some people might think, at late sixties, I'm too old for, adopt the attitude: "What's the worst that can happen?" So far, none of those challenges have been life-threatening and they have all brought me a great deal of satisfaction!
This is great; I'm 40 and I feel old sometimes, so I needed this reminder that there's still a lot of life to live. I had a number of debilitating medical events happen to me between 37 and 40, which I'm sure lent to me feeling older due to limited mobility issues during those times. Thanks for reminding me I'm still relatively young, in the scheme of things, and I can feel younger again. :)
Excellent, myth-busting essay, Eileen! Everyone, including those of us past 45 and moping about it (referring to a friend, not me, of course), needs this reminder. I will be extra vigilant in watching where and how I step now. Thank you and Happy new year!
I’m 54 and sitting on my Peloton making a slow comeback from a knee injury. In the next week or so I’ll try an easy hike again. Then a cold water ocean swim and a bigger hike. I’ll plug in my Magic Wand and go to another planet! Take that youngsters!
I’ll tell you what I don’t do at age 55: I don’t cry over boyfriends, I don’t worry about missed periods, and I don’t give a single fuck what anyone thinks of me. Boom.
🙌🏼
Ha! Amy/Madfoot - cheered you on here. Right on, sister!
Superpowers!
Cheers to that, my friend.
Great article! I just turned 70 and broke my shoulder then my wrist last year within 5 months (yes I’m now taking medication for osteoporosis). But I also kayak, dance, go camping, deadlift 100 pounds, travel, and laugh with friends—a lot. I have much more energy than I did 10 years ago. It’s all good!
What a wonderful reminder that at all ages, things break: hearts, bones, dreams, relationships, and the list goes on. Yet, each day (I am 61), we make the choice you spoke of-to live life our way. Thank you for this reminder to do so!
I love this--it’s inspiration for this “old” 47-year-old. This year I realized that my body has really aged in the last three years and would not continue to support me unless I support it. So I’ve committed to moving again (why do we stop moving after the kids grow up and move out?!), hydrating my skin, stretching, soaking in salt baths, and just generally being more kind to it.
Thank you for reminding me that there’s so much left to enjoy--and they are probably some of the best things!
I was an un-fun 20-30 something. It wasn’t until I reached my 40s, that some of the pressure to have fun in certain ways (mostly involving alcohol and other people) felt lifted. Traveling, trying new crafts and activities, going to a book reading or just staying home and reading the book are all fun to me. I have most of my fun moments by myself, because I live alone, but enjoy getting out when I can with others. I’ve never been an extrovert who makes friends easily, so there are limitations on how much I see other people. Going to a movie, museum, or cooking class alone is fun for me. I appreciate that my definition of fun can be broader now.
You speak for so many of us. I love the mix of humor and emotional heft in your writing. I hope you continue to heal and reclaim more pieces of the things you love to do.
So much in this article resonated with me. Thank you, and heal well.
This last year I turned 70. I spent much of that year making paintings to be given to dear friends who were also turning 70. I believe I made six of these paintings. We had birthday parties for each other, laughed hard, had good discussions, were so grateful for our long-time friendships. Love is still very much a part of these “old” person’s lives.
Great essay, Eileen. Hope you are more mobile now.
Eileen! Brava! Age is overrated. Now I'm going to look for pretty material to cover my portable! Brilliant! Hahaha
Hah, I love! Mine is in storage (for now), no telling what will happen after my surgery. You might want to keep it if you have the space, just in case! You do live in Floridah (not a typo) after all. I miss the ocean and palm trees but not the politics. The church donation is a lovely gesture.
I still have my walker, from my knee replacement surgery five years ago. It lives in the garage on a shelf, along with my backpacks and other camping gear, all of which I still use a lot—unlike that walker! But who knows, the other knee may have to get swapped out at some point, so I keep it. Meanwhile, the shower chair I also needed post-surgery now serves as a footrest under my desk!
thank you so much for your humour (yes, that's how we spell it in the UK) and the clear voice addressing change. our bodies and minds change while our spirit remains strong. my 77year-old self is much more conscious than my 27 year-old self, though i too pinned that very same badge on my denim jacket and wore it with pride!
I'm over 45 and under 60. I have a titanium ankle and and a titanium knee, and here's what I do: travel to music festivals, play flute in a community orchestra, go on Turner Classic Movies cruises, buy antiques at sometimes inflated prices (if I *really* want it), say "no" to things that are not a "hell yes!", say "no" to people who are not a "hell yes!", and enjoy the wisdom that comes with age while I watch the younger set try to figure it out. I sit back and laugh, actually.
I really want to like this article; I really do. But I'm both old and multiply disabled, and I can't get past the disparaging comment about drooling and Depends. Because the truth is, there are many people (of all ages) who DO "sit around drooling" on themselves and waiting for someone to change their Depends, and those people are not deserving of ridicule or mockery. Yeah, the original tweet is ageist. But there are plenty of ways to answer to that and correct ridiculous ageist assumptions without throwing disabled people under the bus by using us as cannon fodder for an anti-ageist defense. In fact, the kind of ageist assumption this article pushes back against is virtually identical to one of the most common oppressively biased tropes about disabled people. That is something older folks and disabled people have in common, not something either group should use to distance itself from the other. This article is essentially saying, "Oh come on, don't be silly! We're not ALL just like THEM, just because we're old." And THAT is pretty darn ableist.
LC, what you wrote is true enough, but nobody ever envisions themselves in the next category of disabled until it happens. It takes first hand knowledge of disability, or secondhand knowledge through family or friends for most of us to realize it can/will happen to us, and to stop putting people into "at least I am not like them" categories. I have a disabled daughter and had a mother in a wheelchair and depends. I myself have drooled because of meds, and now have to wear pads for the same reason. I am 69, and tore my meniscus and needed a walker. My PT wants me to use a cane, which I do on uneven ground. And I am headed into a form of dementia that takes away language. People are people, and we are all on a one way journey.
Eileen, you don't need to stick to grief writing. It was a lovely piece apart from the one gaffe, and i am sure you won't make that mistake again. In fact, growing old (and disabled) entails loss and grief for what is past or for what never was. We all have to let go.
Ann, I understand what you are saying, and in retrospect, I can see that my original comment probably comes across as more harsh and criticizing than I intended. As I have made plenty of my own gaffes regarding oppressed groups of which I am not a member, I know how easy it is to do that without intending to, so I do not mean for my comments to ever vilify or guilt-trip the person I am responding to. That being said, one of the foundational elements of every form of oppression is an unconscious cultural assumption ("socialization," which we have all been subjected to) that whatever traits target a particular group make "them" distinctly different from "us," (if we are not a member of the group) and therefore worthy of marginalization. Many (but definitely not all) forms of oppression are based on static traits that won't ever apply to those who aren't targeted, so knowing that it can/will happen to us at some point should not be the deciding factor that makes people more aware and compassionate about the experience of any oppressed groups, whether it is the old, the disabled, or any other group. What we (all of us) need to do, if we sincerely want to lessen the constant (and almost always unintentional) harm caused to targeted people is to be willing to acknowledge when we have done harm (regardless of our intentions), offer repair if appropriate, and then learn to do better. (Which, BTW, Eileen did wonderfully, and with great care, in her response to my comment).
I agree, and I apologize. I'd be interested in your feedback on a story on my Substack, called Anyone Can Do This. Please let me know if I have unconsciously tripped up here, despite my sincere efforts. The story is in three parts, and can be read or listened to.
No,no,no! One gaff does not mean you should not be doing what you are doing. My intention in my comment was not to suggest you should not write on the subject. I was sincere when I said I really wanted to like the article because otherwise, you really do have great thoughts to share! Please keep writing. 🙂
I consider myself a definite late-bloomer in terms of my writing—first book published at age 50!—and when I am considering a challenge that some people might think, at late sixties, I'm too old for, adopt the attitude: "What's the worst that can happen?" So far, none of those challenges have been life-threatening and they have all brought me a great deal of satisfaction!
This is great; I'm 40 and I feel old sometimes, so I needed this reminder that there's still a lot of life to live. I had a number of debilitating medical events happen to me between 37 and 40, which I'm sure lent to me feeling older due to limited mobility issues during those times. Thanks for reminding me I'm still relatively young, in the scheme of things, and I can feel younger again. :)
Excellent, myth-busting essay, Eileen! Everyone, including those of us past 45 and moping about it (referring to a friend, not me, of course), needs this reminder. I will be extra vigilant in watching where and how I step now. Thank you and Happy new year!
I’m 54 and sitting on my Peloton making a slow comeback from a knee injury. In the next week or so I’ll try an easy hike again. Then a cold water ocean swim and a bigger hike. I’ll plug in my Magic Wand and go to another planet! Take that youngsters!