For most of my life, I suffered from age regret. It didn’t matter how old or young I was; I wasn’t happy. When my mother said every age has its gifts, I couldn’t see the positive side of getting older. It took losing my mother and four friends in the space of three months to shift my mindset and for me to understand the greatest gift is to be alive and savor each day.
At 64, I see that every age is the perfect age. Sure, I can’t take the stairs two by two, but there are other benefits to being in my 60s — and many reasons to look forward to being in my 70s, 80s and 90s.
Here’s why I love being in my 60s and getting older.
For me, everything old is new again.
I have a scary-good memory, but it’s not as sharp as it once was. Surprisingly, there’s a plus side to not remembering everything. I’ll re-watch movies and TV shows, and it’s as if I’ve never seen them before. When I was a child, one of my favorite movies was Anne of the Thousand Days with Richard Burton and Genevieve Bujold. And even though I know the film so well I can quote dialogue from the film, when I watched it recently it was as if I’d never seen it before. The best part was I understood all the sexual tension, double entendres and humor that had gone over my head when I was nine.
I am my own fashionista.
On the first day of 7th grade at my new junior high, I wore shorts and a shirt emblazoned with a plastic rainbow. I was feeling groovy until I noticed no one else was wearing shorts. I was standing out instead of fitting in.
After that, I made sure to wear what everybody else wore. Now that I’m in my 60s, I dress how I want. Thanks to fashion icons like Iris Apfel, who died at 102, I was empowered to realize that being yourself is your greatest look. And if you want to wear chunky jewelry, bright colors and huge glasses, you can. Age has given me the freedom to express myself in any style I choose, which today is a tunic top and leggings.
I let go of my emotional scoreboard.
My friend once said I never forgot a slight — it wasn’t a compliment. I was a champion grudge-holder and held onto any insult, hurt or disrespect directed my way. If someone was rude or did or said something I found objectionable, I burned the incident into my memory to use against them later.