Let’s get one thing out of the way right now: aging is weird. One day you’re twenty-two, eating cold pizza for breakfast and bouncing out of bed like a caffeinated kangaroo, and the next you’re forty-something, Googling “why does my knee, back, neck, toe (whatever) hurt when I do literally nothing?”
So when people ask me, “What do you feel gets better as you get older?” my first instinct is to shout, “EVERYTHING… except my body. My body is now held together by sarcasm, ibuprofen, and a prayer.”
Plot twist — in some ways, even the body gets better. Sure, it creaks and pops like an old house in a windstorm, but I’m way more comfortable in this slightly dented vessel than I ever was in my twenties. Back then, I was too busy panicking over whether low-rise jeans were flattering (spoiler: they were not) and if I was drinking enough kale smoothies to be “wellness trendy.” Now? Please. Give me a stretchy waistband, decent skincare, and a good night’s sleep — I’m basically thriving.
Do I still have days where I look in the mirror and mutter yikes? Absolutely. The beauty though, I don’t care as much anymore. The desperate need to be the “right” shape or to keep up with the latest fashion hysteria faded somewhere between my first gray hair and my third cup of coffee. Freedom!
And it’s not just body comfort that levels up. Mentally, emotionally — you name it, it gets better. With age comes the superpower of perspective. You learn from your mistakes (well, most of them), you get smarter about who and what deserves your energy, and you become annoyingly good at appreciating the little things — like your bed, your dog, cat and the fact that you don’t have to go clubbing on a Thursday night ever again.
I wish I could say life gets easier as you get older. But let’s be real — it doesn’t. I recently switched to a new job in my forties and nearly had a midlife meltdown. Was it terrifying? Yes. Did I survive? Also yes, and I did it with more confidence than I ever had fumbling through my twenties.
I don’t necessarily love people more than I did back then — don’t push it — but I do appreciate them more. I appreciate me more. Maybe that’s the biggest perk of aging: you learn to keep the good stuff closer, let the nonsense slide off your more seasoned and slightly saltier shoulders, and say yes to what really matters.
So, what gets better as you get older? Almost everything — including your ability to laugh about the parts that don’t.
Now if you’ll excuse me, my neck (I slept wrong last night) and I need to go find an ice pack.