This year, I’m turning sixty. 6-0. As in “years old.”
How is this possible? Yesterday, I swear I was forty. I’ll always be forty. I liked forty. But I woke up this morning, and I’m twenty (count ’em…twenty) years older than I feel. That’s a whole lifetime for a college student. So I’m an entire lifetime older than the average undergraduate. Awesome.
Turning twenty was fun. You’re officially an adult, but you’re young enough to have your mistakes forgiven because you’re still a puppy to the rest of the world. Thirty was great. You’re more sophisticated now, and have started making “life decisions.” Marriage? Kids? A mortgage? A beagle or a dachshund? And forty is sexy. You’re a woman, not a girl. You’re interesting. You have things to say, and people actually want to hear them. At fifty, you’ve run smack into midlife. I’ll admit, fifty was a little tough for me. All that push to get an AARP card, remembering to ask for the Honor Menu at every restaurant, and deciding whether or not to go gray now that you’re a “senior.”
Sixty leaves me somewhat stymied. I have no precise words to express exactly how I feel about it. It’s clearly not “middle age”(unless we’re planning to live to be 120). We’ve been seniors for ten years already. So what are we now?
I recently attended my 42nd high school reunion. It was a wonderful evening of wine and laughter, with much to-do about getting older. Many of us expressed the same observation. Everybody looked great, but somehow older than we remembered them. Then when we saw the photos on Facebook the next day, we noticed that we all look exactly the same age as everyone else else. Boom.
The publishing world is full of books, articles, and websites about the frustrations and seemingly inevitable downfalls of aging. Whether we see it from a humorous perspective or something to approach from a fetal position on the bed, sobbing into an oversize decanter of Cabernet, there’s nary a woman alive who can’t recount tales of aging woes.
By sixty, our body parts have shifted downward, our skin has lost elasticity, we still experience occasional menopausal flashbacks that make us human space heaters, and our weight has moved into our bellies and hips like squatters on the Back 40 of the Ponderosa.
But I’ve decided that I’m giving myself a birthday present this year. I’m giving myself a break about the aging thing. Yes, I’m aware that my boobs haven’t been within howdy-neighbor proximity to my clavicles for at least two decades and that my butt jiggles like a Jello mold, even when I’m standing still. But maybe sixty is finally time to embrace the journey. Youth may come with smooth skin and perky behinds, but often in exchange for angst and uncertainty. (Honestly, would you be 25 again??) Middle age (and beyond) brings with it a certain peace. A letting go of the anxieties and often limited perspectives of youth. It’s liberating.
And so, for my birthday, to balance the scales of publishing, I’ve decided to write down my Most Fabulous Things About Turning Sixty.
- We’ve learned to accept our bodies. Gone are the days of puking, pills, eating nothing but grapefruit and chewing gum, full-body Spanx under everything, and workouts that leave us shaky and exhausted instead of energized, futilely trying to beat our ancestoral gene pool into submission to create a body we were never designed to have. I’m short and curvy, and I’ve given birth (although my son is now 27, and says I really must stop blaming my jelly belly on him. Ungrateful brat).
- The world is less black and white. We’re less quick to judge. By now, we know that every story has three sides: yours, mine, and what really happened. When we hear that Aunt Bebe ran off with Uncle Stu’s Krav Maga instructor, we’re less likely to assume Aunt Bebe is simply a tramp who likes martial arts, and more likely to reply, “There are probably pieces of this story we don’t know.”
- We get to wear whatever we want. At this age, fashion, which tends to target the young and the anorexic, is more about what we know works for us than what’s on Project Runway. Love leather moto jackets? We wear ours with everything we own. Hate trendy, low-rise jeans that give you Texas-size muffin top? We get to skip this one.
- There’s less drama. After six decades, we begin to realize that not everything is worth fighting over. As my grandma used to say, “In 50 years, we’ll all be dead and none of this will matter.”
- We get grandchildren. We’ve had the responsibility of raising tiny humans into socially acceptable adults. Now we get to simply love the crap out of our offspring’s mini-me’s, with our primary role being somewhere between Obi Wan Kenobi and Santa Clause.
- We learn to cherish our girlfriends. We’ve attended Sally’s four weddings, got Missy through three stints in rehab, and lived through Susie’s douchy husband’s affair. We’ve supported Jenny’s new career as a nude art model, bailed Karen’s son out of jail (again), and cried together when Linda got cancer. We have history.
- Our marriages are stronger. There’s no way two people can spend several decades together and have every day be a lust-filled day of mutual wonder and adoration. Not. Possible. We’ve had rough times, disappointments, and days when we’d unhesitatingly sell each other for a frosted margarita from the local taco wagon. But we’re still together. It’s that kind of love.
- We laugh more. We see the silliness in things more easily. We’re not as easily offended. Simply put, we’ve lightened up.
- We’ve discovered new passions. Boomers are being called “The Reinvented Generation.” We’re going back to school, learning new languages, traveling to new places, running marathons, and writing novels. We’re not retiring. We’re living longer than ever, and we’re doing it in a red convertible.
So as I kiss my fifties goodbye and face a new decade, I feel…well…good. In fact, I feel better than good. I feel like getting out there and kicking some jiggly ass.
Welcome to your sixties, Vikki…c’mon in, the water’s fine–as you so aptly described! Oh, and one other thing–we appreciate (and drink) better wine at this age.
Thanks, Roxanne! I’m kinda getting my mind wrapped around it. And yes, I am buying better wine these days! :)
….like I’ve said before Vikki….we lived thru the ’60’s once…..we can do it again!!!
You’re funny, Janell! You’re absolutely right. And we’ve got the clothes to prove it! :)
Happy Birthday. Yes it is liberating.
Thanks, Haralee! I’m feeling it! :)
I too am having struggles with my 50’s, but your post gave me hope that it’s not all downhill from here and that maybe I’ll enjoy my 60’s more than this decade!
I’m glad, Emily! I’m looking forward to reading YOUR post when it happens! :)
Happy birthday! I turned 60 in 2015 and it was quite a shock, in terms of time passing so quickly.
“Our marriages are stronger”. Yes, indeed! We’ve been married 43 years now and together for 45. Some things do get better with age. I can relate to everything else you said, as well, except the part about grandchildren. (We’re childfree by choice.) Our mantra should be “60 is the new 40”. Didn’t somebody coin that phrase already? :D
Thanks, Debbie! My favorite is “50 is the new 25. But with brains and money.” We need one for 60! :)
That’s a good one! ☺ I do like “60 is the new 40”.
I so Thank You for This Post!! I could not quit laughing…..Not, Laughing as in What is This, but Laughing in the Fact that You have HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD!! You have so much described MY LIFE & MORE!! I feel so much Better, just reading this……I am getting ready to turn 65 in October & was having so many negative feelings……If You only knew how much this has helped me to realize that NO WAY would I ever want to be 20 again!! I will Survive & I will Survive Happily & with Great Joy…….I might even share a few Laughs (& might even Laugh) at some of these Young Chics who have got ALL this Mess we have already gone through, to go through Themselves!! Life does not have to always be so HEAVY……I loved the one especially about Grandparents being a Obi-Wan-Kenobi or Santa Claus…….THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for helping me now Look Forward with GREAT JOY, to my GRAND ENTRANCE into “”””65″”””……….I JUST LOVE YOU!!
Deb, well, dang woman, you just made my whole day! I’m delighted to help another woman get through this crazy thing called “midlife” with our souls and senses of humors intact. Thanks for letting me know we connected! :)
I loved 40 best so far. I am not looking forward to 50. Although. I have an aunt who is 51 and she looks young, happy, healthy – and IS all of those things. So maybe it’s OK.
Happy birthday again!
Thanks, Lisa! Forty has always been my favorite. Until now… :)
I am 54 but I already get all the things you list here. Happy birthday, Vikki!
Thank you, Sharon! 54 passed by me in a blur. I vaguely remember those early 50s, but I think I was in denial for most of them! :)
Seeking silliness. That is a great one…
Thank, Anna! Some days, it’s good to be silly! :)
Welcome to the club. I love being 60! Happy Birthday Vikki!
Thanks, Nancy! Actually feeling kind of positive about this new decade. So much to do in who knows how much time. So let’s do it! :)
“Simply put, we’ve lightened up.” Amen, Amen. I’ve been sixty for a dozen years now and am at the point where I actually realize that every day is a gift and appreciate it as such. What I’ve lost to the ravages of time (except for the people and pets who are gone) is nothing compared to one more day of loving and living.
Bob, you’ve nailed it, my friend. :)
Awesome, Vikki! You are truly kicking some jiggly ass! :-)
Thanks, Lynne! Yep, I’ve decided not to get a three-way mirror. I’m just looking straight on and wearing Spanx. Since I’m never looking at my behind, it’s not too bad a picture. We take our wins wherever we can get them! :)
Hey, Vikki! I made this same journey just a few months ago and survived. It sounds so cliche, but it is so true. If you still have your health, you have everything. It sounds like you are having the big birthday this week, and may not yet have crossed the line. So I wish you a 60th birthday filled with friends, fun and frolic. Enjoy the ride, because the next milestone is much scarier.
Thanks, Doreen! I’m over the finish line, and have said buh-bye to my fifties. And here we go onto the next adventure! :)
Happy Birthday my friend! You Vikki, are the youngest looking 60 year old I know. Youre beautiful and we love you! Thanks for the great read this morning!
You’re welcome, Goddess! I love it when you stop by for a read and a comment. Makes my day!
Hi Vicky, Been there. Done that. :-)
I remember when tennis balls where white and when you had to get up to change the channel.
I remember when LBJ meant the President (Lyndon B Johnson) and not a basketball player (LeBron James).
I remember the California Raisins, Louis the Lizard and the Budweiser Frogs.
I remember Suzy Chapstick and Polaroids.
I remember gas station attendants.
I remember when Amazon was a river in South America, not a store on the internet.
I remember streakers, est and transcendental meditation.
I remember the Bouffant, the Beehive, the Shag, the D.A, The Wet Look, The Dry Look and Greasy Kid Stuff.
I remember the Atkins Diet, the Scarsdale diet and the Beverly Hills diet—and that none of them worked.
I remember Pan Am and TWA.
I remember lots but I can’t remember what I had for dinner last night, where I put my glasses, and why I went into the kitchen and what I meant to do there.
There’s plenty more where this came from in The Chanel Caper. ;-)
Ruth, I remember the Bud Frogs! Great list. Thanks for sharing! :)
Also, we can now give all kinds of unsolicited advice. And it’s expected! My inner nosy meddling granny loves it…
Ooh, Diane, you’re right! I’ve stopped waiting for permission, and just butt my grandma nose everywhere it doesn’t belong. Fortunately, I’ve got a fabulous DIL who just brings me more wine and politely tells me to butt out. :)
I’ve been feeling like I’m holding on to 59 as my fingernails (nicely manicured, of course) scratch along the blackboard and holler, “No! Not yet!” But you’ve given me hope…and a chuckle which I always adore !
Thanks, Cathy! I hear you. I’ve been dragging my feet on this one, and I don’t know why. I truly believe the best is yet to come. But when I see doctors and lawyers that look 16, I feel so old… :)
I hit 60 four years ago. it’s not all it’s cracked UP to be, but it’s not all bad either.
Hope it was happy and it is a great decade for you!
My sixties landed on me like a piano. Menopause refuses to leave. Weight gain that appears to be unstoppable. And, you know? I love it! Everything still works. I have only occasional twinges. Yep. Sixties are good!
And take heart, Vikki. It gets even better after 70! 80??? I let you know when I get there!
Happy Birthday to you. I have a couple of years to go before I reach 60, but I’m looking forward to it. (I organized a bash with DJ and dancing for my 50th birthday, and will have to start thinking about how I’m going to top that one.)
Good to hear that you’re embracing the big 6 – 0. After all, 60 is the new 40 – something I keep telling myself as I hit 58 in a couple of weeks!