What Does 60 Look Like?

Aging with Confidence and Purpose! This is 60!

What Does 60 Look Like? I’m writing this for me, for my friends, for the woman who hasn’t yet found her voice, for my daughters, and for every woman who quietly dreads another birthday because somewhere along the way she was taught that getting older meant becoming less.

When I was a little girl, I had no idea what 60 looked like.

I assumed that by 60, I would be old. Really old. I pictured sensible shoes, shorter hair, long skirts, and someone who had already lived the exciting part of her life. My definition of 60 came from the women I knew growing up, especially my grandmother and my mother.

My mother, though, wasn’t a fair example. She had been sick for so many years that her illness aged her long before her birthday ever did. Looking back, I realize I never actually knew what a healthy 60-year-old woman looked like. I only knew what illness looked like.

Then I entered my 50s, and menopause humbled me.

My doctor had warned me years earlier, after I had my youngest daughter, that because my hormone levels had been unusually high during pregnancy, menopause might be especially challenging. He wasn’t wrong. There were days I didn’t recognize myself. My body was changing. My emotions were changing. For the first time in my life, I wondered if I would ever feel like “me” again.

After my mother died in 2017 at the age of 69, I made a decision that changed my life. I wasn’t going to spend the next chapter simply growing older. I was going to become healthier. That was the beginning of my wellness journey. It wasn’t about losing weight or looking younger. It was about deciding how I wanted to live the rest of my life. I started eating differently, moving my body more, making sleep a priority, protecting my peace, and finally putting myself first. Looking back now, I realize this is the foundation of what 60 looks like for me, not chasing youth, but choosing health, strength, and purpose. I wrote about that journey in Putting Me First: How My Wellness Journey Began and Where It’s Headed, and I now understand it wasn’t just about improving my health. It was about reclaiming my life.

Something unexpected happened during that journey.

I started feeling younger.

Not younger because I was trying to turn back the clock. Younger because I finally felt comfortable in my own skin.

Now, as I prepare to celebrate my 60th birthday, there are days I look in the mirror and honestly feel like I’m 40. Some days I feel 30. The funny thing is, I have absolutely no desire to go back. Every decade has given me something the one before couldn’t. At almost 60, I know exactly who I am, and there is something incredibly freeing about that. When people ask me what 60 looks like, my answer isn’t about wrinkles or gray hair. It looks like confidence, peace, and finally feeling comfortable in my own skin.

The biggest surprise about getting older isn’t the wrinkles or the fact that losing five pounds takes twice the effort it once did. Trust me, that’s real. Some mornings I don’t feel like getting on the treadmill, but I do it anyway. Every now and then I look down and realize I’ve pushed the speed up to seven, and I can’t help but smile. Thirty-year-old me never imagined she’d be doing that at 60.

What surprises me most is how little I care about the opinions of other people.

One thing I’ve come to realize is that many women don’t actually fear turning 60. We fear how society will see us once we get there.

Ageism is real! Especially for women.

Somewhere along the way, we were taught that youth equals beauty and that every birthday somehow makes us less valuable. I think that’s one of the greatest lies we’ve ever been told.

I remember recently working at a company where I was the oldest person in the office, including the owner. Some people might have found that intimidating. I didn’t. I walked into work every day asking myself, “What can I learn today?” The younger employees taught me new technology, different ways of thinking, and skills I didn’t have. Instead of resisting change, I embraced it. Ironically, being willing to keep learning has put me in one of the strongest positions of my professional career. Age never became my limitation because I refused to let it.

I also think many women have experienced feeling invisible as they get older. We’ve all heard stories about men leaving longtime marriages for younger women, and whether we’ve lived that experience or not, it sends a message. It can make women wonder if beauty has an expiration date. Personally, I don’t believe it does. Sometimes I wonder if chasing youth has more to do with people confronting their own mortality than it does with beauty itself.

I’ve been incredibly fortunate.

For nearly 37 years, my husband has looked at me the same way. Almost every day he says, “Ness, you have beautiful legs. Show them.” Then he’ll remind me how beautiful I am. I never take those words for granted. They don’t define my confidence, but they remind me what love looks like. Real love doesn’t ask you to become someone else. It celebrates the person you’ve become.

Maybe that’s why I still love getting dressed.

I love style.
I love fashion.
I love walking into a room like I own it.

Not because I’m trying to compete with someone who’s 30 years younger than me, but because I genuinely like the woman I see in the mirror. That wasn’t always true. Learning to love the reflection staring back at me has been its own journey, something I wrote about in Real Talk: Loving What You See in the Mirror. Confidence doesn’t come from looking younger. It comes from finally accepting yourself.

Over the past few years, I’ve realized something else.

It’s continuing to learn, to laugh, to dream, and to believe your best chapters may still be ahead of you. That’s exactly what inspired me to write Youth Is a Whole Mood.

Now, when I hear someone say a person died in their 60s, my first reaction is always the same.

“Wow… that’s so young.”
Maybe that’s because it is.
Or maybe it’s because our definition of aging has changed.

People are living longer. They’re healthier. They’re starting businesses, traveling, finding love, lifting weights, and reinventing themselves well into their 60s and beyond.

So what does 60 look like?

If my daughters take one thing away from this article, I hope it’s this.

Don’t be afraid of getting older. Don’t rush through your life because you think your best years are behind you. Your life isn’t measured by the number of candles on your birthday cake. It’s measured by how fully you choose to live. Maybe that’s what 60 looks like.

Maybe… it looks like me; and for the first time in my life, I can honestly say…

I like what I see.

Real Talk. Real People.