What does it feel like to grow old?

“A young person asked me recently what it feels like to grow old.

At first, I was caught off guard—because I honestly don’t think of myself as ‘old.’ When she saw my hesitation, she blushed, but I told her it was actually a great question, and that I’d think about it.

I’ve decided aging is a gift. For the first time in my life, I’ve become the person I always wanted to be. No, not in the way my body looks—believe me, that can be discouraging at times. The wrinkles, the bags under my eyes, the sagging skin. Sometimes I’m shocked by the older woman who stares back at me from the mirror—but the feeling passes quickly. I would never trade my wonderful friends, my rich life, or my beloved family for fewer gray hairs or a flatter stomach.

As I’ve aged, I’ve grown kinder to myself. I’ve stopped being my harshest critic. I let myself be my own friend. I don’t beat myself up for eating that extra cookie, or for leaving the bed unmade, or for buying that ridiculous cement garden lizard I absolutely didn’t need—but that still makes me smile when I see it.

I’ve watched too many dear friends leave this world far too soon, never getting to savor the freedom that comes with age. Who cares if I stay up reading until 4 a.m. and sleep past noon?

I dance in my kitchen to songs from the ’50s. And yes, if I feel like crying over a love that’s long gone, I cry. I’ll walk down the beach in a swimsuit that doesn’t hide a thing—and if the younger crowd in bikinis looks at me with pity, so be it. One day, they’ll be here too.

Yes, sometimes I’m forgetful. But not everything in life is worth remembering—and the things that matter always come back to me.

Of course, my heart’s been broken more than once. That’s life. You lose people you love, you watch your children struggle, you hold your dog after he’s been hit by a car. Broken hearts are what give us compassion, wisdom, and strength. A heart that’s never been broken is sterile—it never knows the joy that comes from imperfection.

I feel blessed to have lived long enough to earn these silver strands, to have laugh lines etched deep into my face from years of joy. How many never got the chance?

Now, I can say ‘no’ with absolute honesty. I can say ‘yes’ with the same honesty. With age comes the freedom of sincerity. I care less about what others think. I trust myself more. And I’ve even earned the right to make mistakes.

So, to answer that young person’s question: I love being older. Aging has freed me. I love the woman I’ve become. I know I won’t live forever, but while I’m here, I refuse to waste time on what could have been—or on what might still happen.

And yes, I’m going to eat dessert. Every single day.”

— Phyllis Shlossberg

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