I did not picture my life as it looks approaching 70 – not as a kid or young adult, not as part of a couple for 35 years. Not ever. Yet the script seems so perfectly written, I know this is exactly where I’m meant to be.
Even 10 years ago, I’d have laughed if you predicted I’d be twice divorced at 70. We were building a new house, and the business was doing better than ever. I thought I was happy.
I would never have guessed myself living alone by choice or going back to college or snagging an internship at my city’s flagship magazine. It’s not New York or Chicago, but I’m about to see my first byline in Bradenton magazine – something that would never have happened in my past life.
I assumed that by 70 I’d have it figured out. I didn’t plan for divorce or illness or hurricanes. All that stuff and more just happens to us as we roll through life. Death, caregiving, economic loss, cancer. Life is mostly out of our control. Yet our brains are hardwired for predictability.
When life’s rug gets pulled out from under us, our nervous system reacts just like we are in physical danger. Cortisol rises. It’s hard to make decisions. It’s not a flaw in our character. It’s just biology.
I remember that exhausted, frozen feeling of fear. Taking a shower was too much physical effort. There were days I felt like the only productive thing I did was pray. Little by little, my intuition came back. I could read again and focus. If I’ve learned one thing it’s to keep moving forward: one step, one decision, one day at a time.
Forced with the inevitability of my divorce, a friend said, “Treat your life like your business as you work through this.” It’s some of the best advice I ever received. One step, one decision, one day at a time.
The World Health Organization says 70 to 90 percent of us will experience a major life trauma, many of us more than one. My first was 50 years ago when my father died in a farming accident. For weeks, I couldn’t make good decisions. I couldn’t smile. But I could concentrate on my studies. It’s the only time I ever made the Dean’s List. Until last semester (smiley face).
If you’re going through an upheaval now and life feels heavy, it’s because adaptation is genuinely hard. What’s one thing you can concentrate on today to calm and focus your mind?
Science says humans have a powerful capacity to reorient even late in life. Aging just changes the way we adapt. We may need more repetition, more rest and more patience. But we can still learn, reset habits and build a life that fits the circumstances we’re in, not the ones we expected.
Just as important, the focus of adaptation often shifts with age. Many of us become less interested in proving ourselves and more interested in what feels true and sustaining, like close relationships and daily peace. I recently joined a local church, a first for me. My needs have changed now that I live alone. It feels good having the added support of a church family.
Modern neuroscience says the later-life brain is especially skilled at integrating experiences, recognizing patterns and regulating emotions. In other words, we may be slower to pivot, but we are often wiser about where we land.
It’s no wonder many women, like me, report a curious mix of grief and resilience as we mourn the life we imagined but feel oddly grounded in the one we’re living. This isn’t resignation, ladies. We’ve adapted and integrated our lives. Bravo. Maybe it’s time to kick the grief to the curb.
When life doesn’t match our expectations, the instinct is to believe we took a wrong turn somewhere. But often, what has happened is more subtle: the definition of success has quietly evolved; the nervous system stops chasing; the soul starts choosing.
Belonging, it turns out, is not always about location or outcome. It is about alignment. We may not be where we planned to be. But we are here. This place – unplanned, imperfect and real – is not a consolation prize. It’s a landing. And sometimes, against all expectations, it is exactly where we belong.
Do you feel like you belong in the life you’re living right now? Or are you grieving parts of life that you thought belonged in your senior years?
Tags Empowerment Solo Living