Three years ago I ran away from home: I moved out of the home that I shared with my husband before he returned from work at 6 p.m. I moved into a one-room industrial loft, the one in the photo here, that I absolutely loved. The apartment felt small and safe. It was the one little place where I could hide from the world while my marriage was crumbling.
Last Saturday I took a giant step in building a happy life for myself again: I moved again. I now own my own condo (well, of course, the bank owns my condo!). I have lots of space and a wonderful view, two stories and the biggest closet I have ever owned (I will post some pictures when the boxes are unpacked)! And, while it is filled to the brim with boxes right now, it represents a new beginning for me; a new, happy chapter filled with hope and success and family and friends. “All that, just from changing your address,” you might ask. Yes! Yes! Yes! When I moved to my loft, I felt that it was important for it to look like home for my adult children. I wanted them to know that no matter where I lived, it would be their home. It might have been just one room, but it was their home. And that’s what it was, their home.
Now, while this is still their home, it is my home, it is me. My new place is not a miniature replica of my married life: it is a home for a single woman over 60 who has a full, exciting life. It is a place where I can entertain, where my children can sleep in separate rooms when they visit (rather than all in one room) and it is a place where I can really start my life over. There is nothing about it that screams, “I am a sad, sad woman who is having to pick up the pieces of her failed marriage and trudge through life.” Instead, I feel like it says, “Paula has overcome a mountain of obstacles and look at her now!”
So, I am launching a test program for Starting Over at Sixty followers designed to build community among women who are 50+ and single and want to live the fullest lives possible. I mention it here because the focus of the group will be how to take steps forward in order to live a life on the outside the way you feel on the inside: vibrant, vital and relevant. I want you to live in alignment! I hope you will join other women who support each other through this chapter of life. Please register here. This test group is 100% free and launches August 1, 2018. I can’t wait to get started!
Read MoreI often read about women deciding to stop coloring their hair and letting it grow out naturally: there are even Facebook pages dedicated to it. They have decided to take the plunge. And, I know so many women who look fantastic in their gray/white hair. They say they feel liberated, that they feel free. Hooray! They are standing up to the evil hair dye companies and I say yippee for them. But, it seems like we applaud the women who go gray as if by doing so they are more authentic, more real, more attuned to their inner self. Well, that is a bunch of hooey! It is hair color for goodness sakes. A murderer could have gray hair. A thief could have gray hair. How does that make them better, and more importantly, how does that make me, a hair color enthusiast, less in touch with myself?
I get that it might be a nice change, not to have to sit in the chair at the salon for an hour waiting to process. Congratulations! And, it might be freeing to feel like everyone now sees you as you were meant to be seen. But come on! Letting your gray shine through doesn’t make you Mother Teresa. It doesn’t mean you are a better woman than the one sitting next to you who is all colored up. Having your gray show doesn’t make you more in touch with your inner self, it doesn’t mean that you are mentally dealing with your age in a positive way better than those of us who color our locks. It means that you just stopped getting your hair dyed. It’s like not getting your nails done. Big deal!
I have been feeling like a little bit of a phony because I bought into all that, “Look at me. I am so secure with myself that I don’t cover my gray hair anymore.” You are not embracing your age any more than I am, with my gray covered. For all I know, the same women who are striking a blow for the women’s movement by going gray may be at the plastic surgeon’s office getting their faces filled to erase the lines.
This is all I am saying: I color my hair and I don’t think that makes me less authentic than the next woman. It doesn’t make me less empowered. It makes me a woman with brown hair. Will I be turned down for the next March on Washington because of my highlights? I hope not. What I want us to all see is that every woman is part of the story. “I take pride in who I am and I color my hair.” There, I said it. It feels good to get that off my chest and out in the open. Now that is freeing.
When I decide to stop coloring my hair, I will. But until that time I don’t want to feel like I am ashamed of my age. I am just meeting it at the shampoo bowl!
Read MoreMy oldest son is 6’3″. He is all legs and when I walk with him in Chicago, where he lives, I am always behind him. I actually have to start skipping to catch up. And one day it hit me that I used to be the one who walked faster than everyone else. He inherited his long legs from me and I used to walk with purpose and at a good clip. Well, I don’t like being The slow poke. I have slowed down a little and I don’t like it one bit. While I embrace my age, I don’t want to be the slowest person in the bunch: that makes me feel old. So, I am purposefully changing that slow walk. Slow is not who I am.
I have friends who seem to have given up. They are kind of coasting through life: not old enough to sit at home and watch reruns of The Price is Right and not working full time any longer. They are moving at a slower pace and it feels as though they are not taking advantage of this great time in our lives. This is the time when we are still able to do most things physically and we have the time to do them. We have the ability to think clearly, for the most part, and we have lives that we might have envied several years ago.
So I do not get the mindset of settling in for the next thirty years. I am filled with anxiety over not having enough time to do everything that I want to do and that thought keeps me awake in the middle of the night sometimes. I know it is crazy I am so anxious to get going on new projects and new opportunities that I honestly can’t sleep.
I was talking with one of my doctors one day not long ago and he was getting ready to have some back surgery. He told me that he and his wife are physically active and that he wants to get his back repaired so he can still do most of the things he loves before his age prevents him from doing it. I couldn’t agree more. With no knowledge of what tomorrow will bring you have to do the things you love now, not coast through one-third of your life. Think about that, one third of your life might be ahead of you. When you hear that stat I hope it gets you motivated to get busy. Be active, volunteer in your community, ride your bike: whatever it is that gets you excited.
And by all means, do not act your age. Act the age you feel inside. Act the age of a woman who has so much life left in her that she can’t take time to play solitaire. You will be amazed at how much fun you can have when you fill your day with activities that you love. Or go back to work doing something that you always wished you could do. Or, retire and go to Europe, just as you had always planned. Keep yourself busy and full of life and others will start to see you as the age you feel as well. They will know you as a person who brings something interesting to the table rather than someone who sits on the sidelines waiting for the game to start. Be the game!
Tell me what you are doing to not act your age. I can’t wait to hear from you.
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