Aging Out Loud: What’s Never Going to Be and What’s Next

This week, I turn 64. That feels like an out-of-body experience. Sixty-four doesn’t feel like something that could have anything to do with me. How did I get here?

One way I manage the shock of getting older is by pre-gaming my birthday. About four or five months beforehand, I start thinking of myself as the next year’s age. When someone asks how old I am, I say, “Almost 64.” And now, here it is: I am 64.

The only downside to this strategy is that when my birthday actually arrives, I can’t remember if I’m turning 64 or 65. For a moment, I’ll think, Wait, did I skip a year? It’s a harmless mind game—a way to nudge myself toward acceptance.

But those internal games are nothing compared to the ones the world plays with me. The ads I see. The snail mail I get. Just last week, I received a burial plot solicitation—nothing says, “Happy Birthday!” like a brochure for eternal rest.

How Others See Me

Sometimes, I wonder how strangers see me. Do they pass me on the street and think old lady? It’s a strange thought because I dress the same way I did as a teen—blue jeans and cotton t-shirts and wear my hair in a headband, too. I’ll still sit on the floor at a party and dance in the pit at concerts. My husband, a lifelong Grateful Dead Head, helps keep us young—we’re in Mexico right now for a five-day Dead festival.

That said, I’ve come to accept a few truths about myself. For one, I’m not a makeup person. I wasn’t when I was younger, and I’m not going to start now, no matter how many Facebook ads suggest “anti-aging” products or how many aspirational products I buy. This is who I am, and at 64, I’m okay with that.

What’s Left on My To-Do List?

Here’s another truth: there are things I’ll never do. I will probably never snow ski, water ski, or learn to play the guitar. To be fair, I never really wanted to do those things. But when I was younger, the possibility felt more alive. Now, I hear some doors softly closing—a gentle warning that if there’s something I genuinely want to do, I’d better get moving.

That’s not to say I haven’t done amazing things. In the past decade alone, I walked 500 miles across Spain, started lifting weights, and reinvented parts of my life I never thought I would. The list of what I have done keeps growing, even as I acknowledge the things I won’t.

But this next decade feels like my big window. The “If not now, when?” mantra echoes louder these days. What do I really want to do with this time? What have I been putting off?

Making the Most of This Decade

This year, these next 10 years, may be the best years of my life. How do I want to spend them? What do I want to accomplish? Where do I start? Are there things I’d like to do by the time I’m 65? The clock is ticking.

For me, it’s less about grand achievements and more about intentional living. I want to prioritize what matters: relationships, experiences, and the little joys that make life rich. I’m not interested in “should” or “might someday.” I want to focus on what feels true and necessary right now.

Your Turn: What Will You Do?

What about you? If not now, when? What’s on your list? Whether it’s a big adventure, a small act of bravery, or simply savoring life more, I’d love to hear how you’re making this time count.

Let’s make it a decade to remember.