This Is What No One Tells You About Being A Woman In Your 60s

The drugstore mirror wasn’t kind this morning. The lines around my eyes, once laugh lines, seemed etched a little deeper. The silver sneaking into my temples was no longer a rogue streak, but a full-blown rebellion. I sigh, reaching for my usual concealer, the one that used to magically rewind a decade. Now, it just highlights the new geography of my face.

This is what no one tells you about being a woman in your 60s: it’s not just the physical changes, though those can be a punch in the gut. It’s the in-betweenness. You’re no longer the young woman, full of frantic energy and unformed dreams. But you’re not quite ready to settle into rocking chairs and bingo nights either.

There’s a freedom, a liberation, in this space. The expectations, both internal and external, loosen their grip. You stop caring what friends think of your haircut, or if your outfit is “age-appropriate.” You finally understand the fierce independence your grandmother always possessed.

But there’s a grief too, a quiet ache for the vibrancy of youth. The world seems so much faster now, the music louder, the trends more fleeting. You watch your children navigate the same anxieties you once did, and a part of you longs to jump in and offer the wisdom you’ve accumulated. But you hold back, knowing that hard-won lessons are best learned firsthand.

The other day, a young woman at work complimented my skirt. It was a vintage piece I’d unearthed in a thrift store, a riot of florals that clashed gloriously with my sensible shoes. “You wouldn’t see someone my age wearing that,” she said, a hint of envy in her voice. I smiled. “Honey,” I said, “age is just a number. Wear what makes you feel like you can conquer the world.”

Maybe that’s the truth about being a woman in your 60s. It’s about conquering your own insecurities, and rewriting the narrative society tries to impose. It’s about embracing the laugh lines, the silver streaks, the in-betweenness. It’s about knowing, deep down, that you are enough, exactly as you are.

So, I put on my floral skirt and my sensible shoes, a smile playing on my lips. The world may be moving fast, but I’m finally walking at my own pace, ready to see what adventures this new chapter holds.

Has your life taken a new direction after the age of 50? Are you thriving late in life in unexpected ways? If you’re someone who bloomed on the later side, we want to hear your story.
Drop an email to info@crunchytales.com

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