I turned 60 fairly recently, which means I now spend a surprising amount of time doing two things:
- Wondering where I left my glasses (honestly).
- Being amused by how completely baffled my 25-year-old self would be by the person I’ve become.
If we could sit down together over a coffee (mine would be decaf after midday, obviously), here’s what I imagine the conversation would sound like.
An Empty Diary Is a Thing of Beauty
At 25, my diary looked like a military operation.
Work meetings. Gym sessions. Nights out. Weekends away. Drinks after work. More gym. More work. More socialising. Repeat.
Back then, an empty evening felt like a personal failure.
Now? An empty diary is a luxury item.
The thought of having absolutely nothing planned for a Saturday afternoon fills me with the kind of joy my younger self reserved for concert tickets.
“You’re doing what this weekend?” 25-year-old me would ask.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“On purpose?”
“Yes.”
The older I get, the more I realise that peace and space are not things to fill. They’re things to enjoy.
Why Are People Eating Dinner at 9pm?
At 25, dinner at 9pm was perfectly normal – it was normally the time I would get in from the gym.
These days, 6pm feels about right.
Six-thirty if I’m feeling adventurous.
Whenever I watch television programmes where people casually stroll into restaurants at 9pm, I find myself wondering if they have some sort of superhuman digestive system.
By 9pm I am thinking about herbal tea and whether I should put my pyjamas on.
The idea of eating a three-course meal at that hour now feels reckless.
Saying What You Actually Think
One of the best things about getting older is caring less about what people think.
Not in a rude way.
More in a “I’ve finally realised that constantly trying to please everyone is exhausting” kind of way.
At 25, I often said what I thought I ought to say.
At 60, I am much more comfortable saying what I actually think.
The interesting thing is that age also teaches you when not to say it.
You develop an ability to read a room.
You learn that not every opinion requires sharing.
Sometimes wisdom is knowing when to speak.
Sometimes wisdom is knowing when to quietly sip your tea and let someone else have the floor.
Clothing: Less, But Better
My younger wardrobe was based on quantity – often from charity shops (which I still love).
Now I’m firmly in the camp of buying fewer things and buying better things.
A well-made coat that lasts ten years + is an absolute win.
Quality over quantity.
Also, I now understand why older people always talked about comfortable shoes.
They were right.
They were annoyingly right.
Function Over Form
At some point in life, you stop asking, “What does it look like?”
And start asking, “What does it actually do?” of “How does it feel”
Furniture. Cars. Kitchen gadgets. Handbags, exercise.
Function wins every time.
It’s a wonderfully liberating shift.
The older version of me has become highly suspicious of anything that looks fabulous but serves no useful purpose.
I Wish I’d Found Yoga Earlier
If I could send one piece of advice back through time, it would simply be:
“Start yoga now.”
Not because it magically solves everything.
But because it teaches things that become increasingly valuable with age: patience, balance, flexibility, breathing, slowing down and paying attention.
The younger me would probably have rolled her eyes and gone for another high-intensity workout.
The older me knows yoga has been one of the best gifts I’ve ever given myself.
Dogs Are Family
At 25, dogs were pets.
At 60, dogs are family members with fur.
They have personalities, preferences and opinions.
They occupy far too much space on the sofa.
They somehow end up with more photographs on your phone than most relatives.
And that’s exactly as it should be.
Also you can be a cat person and a dog person.
Less Is More (Especially with Makeup)
Another surprising development.
The older I get, the less makeup I wear.
My younger self believed that more products meant better results.
My older self has discovered that a little often works better than a lot.
This philosophy now extends beyond makeup into almost every area of life.
Less clutter.
Less drama.
Less rushing.
Less stuff.
More simplicity.
Relationships Take Work
One thing age definitely teaches you is that relationships are rarely black and white.
People are complicated.
Families are complicated.
Friendships are complicated.
Even the best relationships require effort, understanding, forgiveness and occasionally a deep breath.
Life contains far more grey than my younger self ever imagined.
Most people are simply doing their best with what they have.
Understanding that makes life a little easier.
Some friends just pass through, some remain.
The Greatest Joy
If there’s one thing my 25-year-old self couldn’t fully understand, it’s how rewarding having children would be.
Not easy.
Definitely not easy.
There are sleepless nights, worries, frustrations and moments when you question every decision you’ve ever made and think you are the worst parent ever.
But there is also enormous joy.
Watching your children become themselves is one of life’s greatest privileges.
Even when they’re fully grown, you never stop being their parent.
And honestly, you never really want to.
A Final Thought
If I could sum up aging in one sentence, it would be this:
You spend the first half of your life trying to become who you think you’re supposed to be, and the second half becoming who you actually are.
My 25-year-old self might be surprised by many of the choices I’ve made.
She’d be confused by the early dinners, the empty diary, the sensible shoes and the enthusiasm for yoga.
But I think she’d also recognise something important.
The older version is happier.
And that’s not a bad trade-off at all.
