One of the first things you might notice when leaving the comforts of home upon retirement, is the large number of older folks who seem to be everywhere. I must say, my powers of observing the world were quite primitive, pre-retirement. As a charter member of the “world of the working,” I would leave home shortly after sunrise, and often return after sunset. The changing of the seasons was barely observed. Which trees and shrubs were in bloom probably absorbed just a few seconds of my attention. Only as I approached my unplanned retirement event, did I mysteriously begin to notice the tassels of the tall grasses which glinted in the fading sun around five o’clock in the fall on the drive home. As for the other humans in the world, they were background figures to my errands of necessity on the weekends. I suppose they reflected the full span of human development: infants through the elderly. I didn’t notice, because I was busily buying my essentials at Target on Sundays.
Retirees seem to be everywhere! What am I doing here?
Almost immediately after I retired, I began noticing that there were just so many elderly people everywhere I went on weekdays, especially in the gym and the supermarket, my two most frequent hang-outs. What was I doing here? I wasn’t old.
This strange feeling actually arose for the second time in my life. When I retired from my first teaching job at age 56, and found myself employed on a college campus, there was a similar feeling of not belonging. Without interruption, after my kids were grown, I had been a teacher for 21 years, beginning at the age of 35. I was surrounded with women my age, and ever increasingly, the young teachers just entering the profession. We all had the same responsibilities: we ate together, planned together, complained together, shared the same students, the same administration, and spent our days in the same school building, for a very long time. I thought I was the same age they were.
When I arrived on campus, I actually had a very distorted image of myself. I really was not current with my age of 56 years at the time. I quickly found myself imitating the styles of our students. I was thin enough for skinny pants and flats. I felt like I fit right in. But one day, a graduate student jerked me out of my fantasy. She told me I looked great – “You don’t look a day over 50.” Whoa! Who was I kidding? I might have felt like I could pass for a younger woman, but obviously that was not the case.
Shockingly, I fit right in.
Although I feel much younger than my seven decades, I have learned that I do belong with my cohort of retirees. Appearance in the realm of hair color and wrinkles is largely genetic. I’ve only had difficulty accepting my age because of my still brown hair color, like my long-living parents before me and my older brother. I still have the greater share of my physical ability and a fairly vibrant life force. Why would I belong with a bunch of people who look so much older than me, who might be physically impaired, and obviously in a later stage of life?
It was somewhat easier to deny becoming a member of this tribe before the pandemic. When make-up, nice clothes and regular visits to the salon became impossible, the rather “tired” daily image that lived in my mirror was difficult to discount. What other event could possibly have encouraged women of a certain age to reveal their natural hair color to the world?
The ”tribe” has three divisions
Because the human lifespan is increasing so rapidly, and there are so many more people above the age of 65, terms for subpopulations of the elderly have been devised. We have the Young Old (65-74), the Old Old (74-84) and the Oldest Old (85+). There it was, I was a new constituent of the Young Old. For reasons of vanity, now when I see someone much older than myself, I can conveniently shift them into a different subpopulation – what a relief! However, the genetic role in physical appearance can be quite deceiving. In my yoga class, I might have filed someone away in a different population because they have more grey hair and wrinkles than me, but it is always shocking to find out we are members of the same team.
Life hacks to feeling better and accepting your age
Neuroscience research provides a clue as to why some of us feel younger than our years. There are physical differences in those with healthier brains: more grey matter in certain key regions. Our memories are better and we suffer from less depression than our older feeling peers. Leading a more stimulating life through quality mental and physical activity pays off. However, we still have to be more realistic about what stage of life we inhabit.
An excellent way to become more objective about this very unpleasant fact, is to purchase a magnifying mirror to stand on a flat surface in the bathroom or bedroom. Be sure it has a magnification factor of ten times – nothing less! Get in the habit of surveying your image every morning and evening. Focus particularly on the facial elements which don’t appear from a distant gaze: the eye, mouth and neck areas. This daily practice will eventually change your brain to accept the truth about how others see you. You will understand why young, polite men call you “ma’am.” You will also slowly accept the fact that all of those shocking cellphone photos are not outliers, but what you really look like!