Lisa O
Something happens after sixty. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when, but suddenly you’re not carrying around the same worries anymore. Things that seemed important for years just stop mattering. A woman realizes she’s been lugging around expectations and fears that weren’t even hers to begin with. She sets them down. Not because someone told her to or because she read it somewhere.
Caring What Strangers Think
The opinion of someone you’ll never see again used to matter so much. Now it just doesn’t. A woman walks past a mirror in a store, and maybe her hair is flat or her shirt is wrinkled. She keeps walking. There’s no mental spiral about it anymore. The checkout clerk’s expression means nothing. The person behind her in line can think whatever they want. She’s buying groceries, not performing.
Uncomfortable Shoes
Heels sit in the back of the closet gathering dust. There’s no event important enough to justify sore feet anymore. Flats and sneakers do the job just fine. The idea that women need height or a certain silhouette to be taken seriously fades when you’ve already spent forty years being taken seriously or not. Either way, the shoes made no difference. Comfort wins now. There’s a pair of slip-ons by the door.
The Pressure to Look Younger
Advertisements for anti-aging creams still appear everywhere, but they no longer have the same impact. A woman sees her reflection, and there are lines around her eyes, and gray is starting to show through. She might color it or she might not. The urgency is gone. Looking sixty while being sixty makes sense now. There’s no shame in it. Some mornings she’ll put on makeup, and some mornings she won’t.
Keeping Up With Trends
Fashion magazines pile up unread. The newest style or color of the season no longer creates that pull. A closet full of what is actually worn replaces the closet full of what might be worn someday. If something fits well and feels right, it tends to stay. If skinny jeans or whatever else is trending doesn’t work, it doesn’t matter. There’s no FOMO about it. Stores can sell their collections to someone else.
Pleasing Everyone All the Time
Saying no used to come with a great deal of guilt. Now it’s just a sentence. Someone asks for a favor that doesn’t work, and the answer is a simple ‘no’. Simple as that. No long explanation or apology. The need to be liked by every single person in every situation loses its grip. It’s not about being rude. It’s about knowing you can’t make everyone happy, and that was never your job anyway.
Toxic Friendships
Some friendships were held onto for years out of habit or history. They stopped feeling good a long time ago, but letting go seemed wrong. After sixty, that changes. A woman looks at her phone and sees a name that makes her tired. She doesn’t answer. Maybe she never does again. Those who drain more than they give no longer have access. There’s no dramatic confrontation. Just distance.
Perfect Holiday Hosting
The holiday table doesn’t need to look like a magazine spread. Store-bought rolls sit alongside homemade dishes, and nobody seems to notice. A woman sets out mismatched plates because that’s what fits everyone. The meal is good enough. Suppose someone judges the presentation they can host next time. The hours spent stressing over centerpieces and perfect napkin folds seem silly now. People come for the company, not the decor.
Pretending to Enjoy Things
Parties that go too late. Movies that everyone says are brilliant but feel boring. Loud restaurants where you can’t hear anyone talk. A woman stops forcing herself through these things. If a book isn’t good, she puts it down. If a gathering sounds exhausting, she stays home. There’s no pretending to have a great time when she’s not. The energy spent faking enthusiasm gets saved for things that do matter.
Explaining Personal Choices
Why is she not drinking? Why is she leaving early? Why didn’t she respond to a text right away? These things no longer require a story to be associated with them. Someone asks, and the answer is short. Just because. That’s enough. The idea that every decision requires justification falls away. A woman lives her life the way that works for her, and other people can think whatever they want.
The Fear of Aging Itself
Birthdays used to feel like deadlines. Another year meant something was ending or running out. That fear isn’t as loud anymore. Sixty-five or seventy or seventy-five. The numbers are just numbers. Getting older beats the alternative. A woman wakes up in the morning, and she’s here. That’s the part that matters. The wrinkles, the slower pace, and the reading glasses on every surface are just part of it.
Career Ambition That Wasn’t Hers
Some women spent decades climbing toward something they didn’t even want to achieve. The title, the salary, or the approval came from someone else’s idea of success; after sixty, that becomes clear. If she’s still working, it’s because she wants to. If she’s retired, she’s not mourning what she didn’t achieve. The ladder doesn’t matter anymore. A woman sits with coffee in the morning and doesn’t think about her resume.
Being Available All the Time
Phones buzz constantly. Messages pile up. The expectation to respond immediately used to feel mandatory. Now it doesn’t. A woman sees a text and answers when she feels like it. Maybe that’s an hour later. Maybe it’s the next day. People have grown accustomed to instant replies, but that’s not her problem. She’s not on call for everyone’s every thought. The phone is sometimes left in another room. The world keeps turning.
Comparison to Other Women
Someone else’s house, body, or relationship used to be a measuring stick for me. It’s not anymore. A woman sees another woman, and that’s all it is—no mental list of who has more or who looks better. Everyone’s just getting through their own life. The competition was always pointless. She knows that now. A neighbor pulls up in a new car, and it’s just a car. It doesn’t mean anything about her own life.
Dressing for Others
The clothes that made other people comfortable no longer matter. A woman wears what she wants to wear. Bright colors or all black. Jeans to a fancy event or a dress on a Tuesday morning. The rules about age-appropriate clothing fade. If someone thinks she should dress differently, that’s their issue. She pulls on a sweater that’s seen better days because it’s soft and warm. Nobody gets a vote on her wardrobe except her.
Apologizing for Taking Up Space
Sorry for asking a question. Sorry for speaking up. Sorry for existing in a room. That sorry is gone now. A woman takes up the space she takes up. She sits where she wants to sit. She talks when she has something to say. If someone interrupts, she finishes her sentence anyway. The reflex to shrink and apologize for being present begins to fade. She’s allowed to be here and is entitled to be heard.