What I Know Now at 60 (That I Wish I Had Known at 30)

Sixty.
It’s still washing over me.

Recently, I turned 60 years old. I’ve said it out loud, written it down, stared at it on my driver’s license and passport—and I still can’t quite believe it. In my head, I’m somewhere between 20 and 35. I make long-term plans. I think in decades. I’m not winding down—I’m just getting warmed up.

And yet, 60 is here. And instead of shrinking from it, I’m sitting in the gratitude of it.
Because my brother didn’t get to see 60. He passed away at 48. He left me with a promise to spend the rest of my life pouring into others, helping them choose life while they still have life to choose. That promise gave me purpose. That promise shaped everything.

So today, I want to share six things I know now at 60—truths that took decades to settle in, truths I wish I’d known in my 30s (and 20s and teens). These are the hard-won lessons that I hope find you exactly where you are.

1. Time Is Not Linear

Some years are for building. Some years are for surviving. 2021 and 2022? Survival years.

There’s this myth that we “waste time” if something doesn’t go exactly how we planned. A degree we didn’t use. A job we left. A relationship that ended. But here’s the truth: no time is wasted if you learned something from it.

You are not late. You are ripening. Growing. Becoming.
Time isn’t a straight line—it’s a winding, layered journey full of detours, valleys, and unexpected phone calls that change everything. Like the one I got that told me I had cancer.

We don’t always get to choose what happens, but we do get to choose what we learn from it.

2. Your Body Is Not the Enemy

Oh, how I wish I’d learned this sooner.

I spent most of my life treating my body like an enemy. Measuring, starving, punishing, bargaining. I never just ate the cake and enjoyed it. I analyzed every bite. I looked at my body like it owed me something.

It doesn’t. My body is not a betrayal. It’s a partnership.
Even when it was hit with cancer, it was communicating with me. And now, instead of waging war on it, I’ve chosen to walk with it. To listen. To rest. To nourish.

To be 60 and finally feel at peace in my skin is a kind of healing I never expected.

3. Confidence Comes from Boundaries—Not Approval

In my 30s, I lived for approval. I was addicted to it. Chasing the gold stars, the validation, the “atta-girls.”

What I’ve learned since?
Confidence has nothing to do with applause. It comes from boundaries. From being able to say “yes” and “no” and mean both.

It’s in the quiet conviction of choosing peace over people-pleasing.
It’s in letting people be disappointed in your boundaries—and being okay with that.

Confidence is self-respect made visible.

4. Love Looks Different When You Stop Performing

When you stop performing for love—stop twisting yourself into who you think someone wants—you make space for something real.

Real love doesn’t keep you guessing. It doesn’t make you earn it.
Real love feels like an exhale.

I wish I had known this sooner. I wish I had stopped auditioning for people who never wanted to see the real me. Now, at 60, I know that if I have to perform for your love, it’s not love at all.

5. Menopause Is a Portal, Not a Punishment

No one prepared me for the strength, softness, and self-trust that came on the other side of menopause. It was never about "losing youth"—it was about gaining wisdom.

In a culture obsessed with youth, it's easy to internalize the idea that aging makes us less valuable. But I'm calling that out for the lie it is. Post-menopausal life? It's powerful.

There's clarity. There’s calm. There’s a deep knowing that didn’t exist when I was 30. This isn’t decline—it’s becoming.

6. You Don’t Have to Know Everything to Begin

You don’t need a 5-year plan. You don’t need to be ready. You don’t need to have it all figured out.

Start where you are.

You will build the bridge as you walk it.
You will rise to meet what’s next.

I used to think I had to wait until I felt brave to do brave things.
Now I know the truth: courage comes in motion. Clarity comes in the doing. And empowerment lives in the trying.

Final thoughts
Sixty is not old. It is a privilege.
It is a gift that too many never get.
And if you are blessed to wake up one day and say, “I’m 60,” I hope you say it with a heart full of fire and a soul lit up with purpose.

Here’s to the next chapter. Here’s to the next 60.
And here’s to everything we’re still becoming.

Journal Prompt:
What do I know now that I wish I had known then?
What lesson am I still learning?