For instance, the older I get, the more comfortable I am in my own skin. I no longer worry about trying to be someone or something I am not. While I admit to still comparing myself to others, I am less inclined to judge our differences but rather accept them. I was in my early 40’s when I realized, thanks to the work of Susan Cain, how strong my introverted tendencies are. Her 2012 TED talk gave me permission to be who I am, i.e., someone who actually enjoys solitude and quiet, instead of someone that the world expects me to be, always “on” and ready to socialize. Don’t get me wrong; I very much enjoy being with (small) groups of friends where conversation and laughter are abundant. But I will inevitably reach a point where I’ve had my fill and I need to retreat. The best description I’ve read about the difference between introverts and extroverts has to do with how they recharge their internal batteries. Extroverts charge their batteries by being around other people, while introverts do so by being alone. Count me in the latter category, without a doubt. I love living by myself, sitting by the fireplace with my dog, maybe enjoying a cup of tea or a glass of wine, often in silence. And while I have always enjoyed a good walk, when my 61-year-old arthritic knees are feeling up to it, that is, I will never be mistaken for someone who is active and athletic. The nuances of an introverted lifestyle suit me just fine and I do not apologize for the contentment I feel when I’m by myself.

The older I get, the more likely I am to say what’s on my mind and openly engage in conversation. I’m less worried about what people will think of me if I state the obvious or if my ideas are unoriginal or unpopular. In fact, while some would say I am brutally honest, perhaps even to a fault, I have historically held back in conversations with people I thought were smarter than me. If I couldn’t contribute with confidence, I would say little or nothing at all. I’m grateful to the people in my life who continue to ask the hard questions that inspire me to contribute from a place of humility. Sometimes, they inspire me to ask more questions if I don’t fully understand. In other words, I’m less concerned with being perceived as knowing it all and more interested in having a full understanding. Modesty is so much easier than trying to be the best or the smartest.

The older I get, the more I realize that sometimes older IS wiser. I have accumulated considerable life experience during my 61 years. I came from a privileged upbringing in spite of my parents’ divorce when I was 8; I graduated from a private liberal arts college; got married at age 30; explored several short-lived careers before having my children; went back to a school for a master’s degree at age 42; got divorced; lived in a 2-bedroom apartment and lived on a tight budget for the first time in my life; lost both parents; have been with the same employer for 20 years; continue to help guide and support my now adult children; and am looking forward to retirement in the not-too-distant future. So yes, rather than doubting myself due to inexperience as I often have over the years, I’m becoming aware that I might just be able to impart some of the wisdom that naturally comes from life experience onto others, maybe even for their own benefit. While I’m certainly no expert on interpersonal relationships (or cooking), I have managed to raise bright and creative kids; keep up with technology–or at least enough to handle email, blogging, and online research; read a fair number of books; manage my finances; own a home; and even learn new things like watercolor, in the midst of a pandemic no less. So while the number 61 seems old, a lot has happened in that time. And I’m better for all of it.

The older I get, the more I tend to live in the present moment. I draw a lot of inspiration from Pema Chodron who encourages us to “welcome the present moment as if you had invited it. It is all we ever have so we might as well work with it rather than struggling against it. We might as well make it our friend and teacher rather than our enemy.” This holds true when we tend to dwell in regrets from the past as much as it does when we worry about the future. Admittedly this outlook could potentially get in the way of planning for important things–like retirement, for example–but it also allows us to weigh the importance of enjoying the here-and-now while we can. Too much stress and anxiety, in my opinion, comes from worry over things we often have no control over. I’d rather put my energy into today and make the most of it.

I’m realizing as I’ve written this that the older I get, the more self-doubt and insecurity I am able to shed as I finally come into my own. My identity is no longer bound up in being someone’s daughter, someone’s wife, or even someone’s mother. While I will always be a mother, that role is changing as my children learn to make their way in the world…in spite of this damn pandemic. I am far from perfect and I intend to continue growing into my advanced years, but today, I am gratified to say that the older I get, the happier I am.