Aging Loudly vs. Aging Gracefully

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For most of my life, I heard women described as aging gracefully.

It was supposed to be a compliment.

She aged gracefully.

She accepted getting older.

She dressed appropriately.

She didn’t try too hard.

She didn’t make a fuss about it.

And somewhere along the way, I started wondering:

Why does aging gracefully sound so damn quiet?

Because at 68, quiet isn’t exactly what I’m feeling.

I’m curious.

I’m building things.

I’m experimenting with my style.

I’m learning things I didn’t know how to do five years ago.

I’m putting myself on YouTube.

I’m writing.

I’m trying new things.

I’m wearing the jewelry.

I’m figuring out what the hell my boho style actually looks like.

And some days I’m still asking myself, What else could I do?

Apparently, I’ve decided to age loudly.

And you know what?

I think I like it.

Who Decided What Aging Gracefully Looks Like?

I’m not against aging gracefully.

If that’s what you want, baby, do it.

But I do have a problem with the idea that getting older automatically means we’re supposed to start shrinking.

Our clothes should become quieter.

Our opinions should become softer.

Our expectations should become smaller.

Our dreams should become more “realistic.”

And heaven forbid a woman over 60 decides she wants to reinvent herself.

People start asking:

Why?

Why now?

What’s wrong with the life you already have?

Nothing.

That’s the point.

You don’t have to hate your old life to want something new.

You don’t need a crisis to reinvent yourself.

Sometimes you’re simply curious about the woman you haven’t met yet.

I’m Not Trying to Be 30 Again

This is important.

Aging loudly isn’t about pretending we’re younger.

I don’t want to be 30 again.

I’ve already been 30.

Been there. Done that.

And there were plenty of things about that woman that I loved.

But she didn’t know what I know now.

She hadn’t lived what I’ve lived.

She hadn’t screwed up enough yet.

She hadn’t recovered enough yet.

She hadn’t learned that sometimes the thing you think is the end of your story is just the beginning of another chapter.

I’m not trying to go backward.

I’m trying to see what 68 can look like when I stop comparing it to 38.

That’s a completely different conversation.

Aging Loudly Means Staying Curious

I think curiosity might be one of the most underrated parts of getting older.

We’re encouraged to prepare.

Prepare for retirement.

Prepare financially.

Prepare our homes.

Prepare our health.

Prepare for what might happen.

And yes, those things matter.

But what about preparing to still be fascinated by your own life?

What about asking:

What haven’t I tried yet?

What could I learn?

Where could I go?

What could I create?

Who could I become?

That’s the part of aging nobody talks about enough.

You have decades of experience behind you — and you can still be a beginner at something tomorrow.

I love that.

Wear the Turquoise Dress

You knew eventually we were going to talk about clothes.

Because apparently somewhere along the way, women reach a certain age and beige starts circling the house.

No offense to beige.

Beige has its place.

My walls can wear it.

I’m not sure I want to.

If you love neutral clothes, wear them.

But if you’ve been staring at the turquoise dress because you think it’s “too much” for a woman your age?

Wear the damn turquoise dress.

Stack the bracelets.

Wear the big earrings.

Put on the boots.

Grow your hair.

Cut your hair.

Color it.

Let it go gray.

There isn’t one correct uniform for being a woman over 60.

Your clothes don’t need to announce that you’ve agreed to disappear.

Start the Business

Here’s another thing nobody tells you.

You can still have new dreams after retirement.

You can even have dreams that make absolutely no sense to anybody else.

You can start a business.

Write the book.

Open the Etsy shop.

Start the YouTube channel.

Learn affiliate marketing.

Take the class.

Plant the garden.

Pick up the paintbrush.

Go back to school.

Whatever keeps whispering, I wonder if I could…

Maybe it’s time to find out.

Will everything work?

Of course not.

But I’ve reached an age where failure doesn’t scare me nearly as much as regret does.

I don’t want to get to the end and realize I spent my last chapters waiting for somebody to tell me I was allowed to begin.

Say What You Think

There’s another freedom that comes with getting older.

You start realizing how much time you spent worrying about what everybody else thought.

And eventually you think:

Well, that was exhausting.

Aging loudly doesn’t mean being cruel.

It doesn’t mean you stop listening.

It doesn’t mean your opinion is always right.

It means you’re no longer willing to erase yourself just to make everybody else comfortable.

You can disagree.

You can change your mind.

You can say no.

You can say yes when everyone thinks you should say no.

And you don’t have to write a five-page explanation defending your decision.

Change Your Mind at 68

I think this might be one of my favorite parts.

You are allowed to change your mind.

At 60.

At 68.

At 75.

At 90.

You’re allowed to decide that something you believed ten years ago doesn’t fit anymore.

You’re allowed to change how you dress.

How you spend your time.

Who gets access to you.

What you want your retirement to look like.

What you’re willing to tolerate.

What you want to learn.

Who you want to become.

Getting older doesn’t mean your identity has to become permanent.

You are still allowed to surprise yourself.

Take Up Some Damn Space

Women are very good at making room for everyone else.

Our children.

Our partners.

Our parents.

Our bosses.

Our families.

Our friends.

And sometimes we become so good at making room that we forget we’re supposed to occupy some of it too.

Aging loudly means taking some of that space back.

Not all of it.

We’re not kicking everybody out.

But maybe there’s finally room for you.

Your interests.

Your dreams.

Your ridiculous ideas.

Your bright dress.

Your little business.

Your trip.

Your hobby.

Your afternoon doing absolutely nothing because that’s what you damn well felt like doing.

You’re still here.

Act like it.

Maybe This Is Aging Gracefully

Here’s the funny part.

Maybe I’ve misunderstood aging gracefully all along.

Maybe grace doesn’t mean becoming quieter.

Maybe it doesn’t mean disappearing politely.

Maybe it doesn’t mean accepting somebody else’s definition of what an older woman should look like, want, wear, say or dream about.

Maybe grace is knowing yourself well enough to stop asking permission.

Maybe grace is walking into this chapter carrying everything you’ve learned — the good decisions, the spectacular mistakes, the heartbreaks, the laughter and all the times you had to start over.

And still being curious about what’s next.

If that’s aging gracefully…

then maybe I am.

I’m just doing it a little louder.

I’m 68.

I’m not trying to look 30.

I’m not trying to go backward.

And I’m definitely not finished.

I’m aging loudly.

If you’re somewhere in this chapter with me, maybe it’s time you did too.

You ain’t got time to wait, baby.

Tit’s up and be fierce.