I remember when I turned 50, I was sure the end of the world was going to drop on me like a concrete ball. Needless to say I was relieved when that didn’t happen.
50 turned out to be probably the best decade of my life. I did so much super cool stuff. I grew. I faced a million fears. I pushed limits. I figured out who I was and what I wanted to do.
I also did all this:
- left an abusive relationship
- changed careers
- bought a one-way ticket to Guatemala, and
- never looked back
The 50’s was MY decade. I wish I had the same enthusiasm for my 60’s. But I don’t. I’m not sliding into this decade with bells and whistles on my toes.
When I look at myself in the mirror, the woman looking back appears sad and tired. Somewhere along the way, she lost her spark.
I desperately want to reignite it. Honest, I do. This new Iva, this 60-year-old Iva, is so different and so scared. Lost and alone. Unsure and nervous.
I don’t want to write anymore. I feel I have nothing to write about that would spark joy. I feel everything I want to say now and write about is just sad and depressing
I really just want to go pet puppies and feed street dogs.
This is how it feels to be 60
I feel more anxious about life and death than I ever have before. I’m concerned for my well-being. I’m terrified Alzheimers will strike me down like it did my mom at 65 years old.
That’s only in 5 more years.
I’m forgetting a lot as it is. Is this normal? Is this the first sign of dementia?
I have so much more I want to do with my life. Is time running out? Will the clock beat me?
Is it too late to meet the man of my dreams? Did that boat sail away a long time ago? I want to be held and caressed gently and romantically and affectionately but am I too late for all that?
Will I ever be able to have sex again without pain? Or are my days of having good sex over too now?
Will I grow old alone?
Will people stop taking me seriously because I’m now ‘too old’?
Do I have to hurry up and get to work really fast on my long-term goals? Am I wasting my time?
Some days, anxiety happens so swiftly, and it’s so overwhelming I’m worried I may not be able to catch my breath on time. Is this my new normal now?
Am I still pretty? Will I ever stop coloring my hair? Does this muffin top ever go away?
It’s not over til the fat lady sings
Is that considered politically incorrect now? Will I piss off a lot of people by using that phrase? Everyone, including me, is so sensitive these days.
Everything is off-limits. Don’t say this, don’t do that, stop being a Karen, that’s inappropriate, that was rude. The world and people are exhausting.
It’s overwhelming.
I have a really big goal, a really big mission that I’m on, and I won’t quit until I see it through.
You want to know the one thing that keeps me in check and keeps me focused, going full steam ahead?
Dogs.
Dogs give me hope. Dogs remind me why I’m here and that I still have a big job to do and my life definitely won’t be over until I finish this job.
As long as I keep reminding myself of my long-term goal, I’ll be ok. I know I will.
And every time I feel sad like I’m tired and I don’t want to go on anymore and like I can’t breathe, I think of my goal. And then I go out and pet a dog.
Nothing is over until I achieve it. Nothing.
It’s ok to feel all the feels
Listen, I know it’s not the end of the world. I know I still have plenty of time to achieve my super huge long-term goal. I know all this. But the feelings I feel are real.
I allow them to come in, I see them, feel them, and then send them away. I don’t have time for them. I have a mission to complete.
It’s ok to feel all those feels. It’s ok to have a teeny little pity party. It’s ok to think “I’m old and feeling sad about getting old”. All that is perfectly ok.
What’s not ok is to stay there and let it consume you. That’s never ok.
While I have all these dark feelings I also have hope and a vision. I’m not perfect. I’m human.
I’m not happy all the time. I’m sad sometimes too and that’s ok. It’s ok because I’ve learned to feel the feels and then let them go.
The lady looking back in the mirror
Yes, I’m getting older. Yes, I have new wrinkles and signs of aging. Maybe I don’t look 60 but that doesn’t matter to me anymore. You can tell me I look 50, and that’s fine, but the fact of the matter is, no matter how old I look, I’m still 60.
And that’s ok.
It’s terrifying yet part of me knows that this is the decade I achieve the greatest thing I’ve ever set out to do.
The lady looking back in the mirror isn’t 30 or 40 or 50 anymore. She’s 60, and she’s on a mission. She has a new outlook on life and she doesn’t have time for BS and toxic people or things.
The lady looking back in the mirror understands that time certainly is running out but she has faith. And she’ll make the absolute most of what time she has left on earth.
I won’t be sad
I promise I won’t be sad forever. These are temporary glitches that I must go through as I grow and age.
And that’s ok.
I’ll go out and pet a dog when I’m sad and talk to them and remind them that I’m the lady who is going to change their world for them. I will tell them that one day soon, there will be a safe place for them to live.
A place where there will always be food for them. And shelter. And love. And joy. And humans they can trust and love.
And they will be safe until they die.
This is what sparks my joy. This dream. This goal. And I won’t stop until it becomes a reality.
Don’t be sad
If you’ve been feeling sad about getting older, I want you to find something that sparks your joy. I want you to feel all your feelings, but don’t stay there. It’s a dark place, and it’s only for quick visits, not permanent residency.
Think about the things that bring you joy and go chase them.
This is your one precious life, and it’s never too late to do the things you’ve always wanted to do.
xo iva xo
