A few years ago, around the time I turned 65, I started feeling nervous.
On the outside, I looked the same as I did when I was a senior editor at the local newspaper: confident and in control, quick with a snappy comeback. Yet, I felt unsteady.
My mother had recently died, and I had retired from daily journalism. I didn’t feel invisible or that I was fading away. I felt almost the opposite, like I’d jammed down the gas pedal of my life, and my hands were shaky on the wheel.
This was not like me. I’m a professional grasper: I like to hold on tight and steer my life with boldness.
And, yet, here I was, scared to drive from North Carolina to Florida by myself. Not full-blown terrified, just nagging nerves. What if the car breaks down?
I started to get low-level jitters about other things, too, like walking on cobblestone streets. One of my friends recently broke his neck during a fall to get a glass of water — inside his own apartment! What if that happens to me when I’m alone in a hotel room?
I’ve had enough therapy to realize what’s going on. My “control” was a joke. I tried to drive too fast through a major loss, and my emotions started piling up on me. I needed to stop moving and start feeling.
The three factors behind our fears: Loss, avoidance and uncertainty
As author Brené Brown says in her 2021 book Atlas of the Heart: “An intolerance for uncertainty is an important contributing factor to all types of anxiety.”
Indeed. We’ll do almost anything to make life certain … but life is never certain. Especially when we hit 60. Most of us have those giant fears, like getting a terminal illness or something terrible happening to our kids or friends.