Kim, I am Dr Sullivan a neurogeriatric cognitive psychologist and neurorehabilitation physical therapist. Now that we have that out of the way, I would like to talk to you about creating a new job for us seniors. Who wants to be a Wal-Mart greeter, when we can do so much more. Let’s connect
I was under-prepared a lot as a 20-something- year-old. Out of my depth. I cried in a job interview once. Hysterically cried, so the interviewer had to console me."
I only cringed as hard as I did at this because of how much I saw my 20-something self in it...
I once cried in a job interview too. At 23, I was interviewing for a cook's position. Mortified that my mind had drawn a blank on how to make chicken saltimboca, I burst into tears. Fortunately, the chef was kind. I got the job and still work for the company 34 years later.
I am so thankful for the wisdom and experience that comes with age. I still have some of the same fears and insecurities that I had at 23 but I'm so much better equipped to deal with them now.
I see myself so much in your beautiful essay; it makes me wish I could turn back time and enjoy the circumstances I found myself in - yet - here I am today, like you, wiser, more circumspect, finally comfortable in my own skin. We've earned it.
Yes, that was many of us - but there was a sense of self, too, yes? Enough that you went for Euro money, went to that restaurant, took the chances. Enough that I offered bus fare to the young men who wanted to stick around the next morning, but I got a job in an office instead of trusting my ability with art making. I couldn't make anything perfect. I almost overdosed, or I suppose I did, because I came to with a sore face and three friends staring at me, asking me if I knew my name. Still didn't wake me up (I did quit using albeit a few weeks later, because I decided until I understood why I was trying to kill myself I had to stop). Finally went back to college - and sidetracked myself again at thirty, with a bad marriage and cancer (I beat the 5% chance I had of lasting a year), staying with that marriage, working in an office for almost nine more years, finally getting out of both, when a car almost killed me, taking part of my body, my beautiful pair of legs reduced to one, thirteen weeks in hospital, and I woke up. I lay in that hospital bed, and laughed. It took almost dying three times (I don't count escaping scary people, I don't know why) to finally ask myself how do I want to live. I'd have people ask me what I've learned. I've learned live life well. It doesnt' matter what age, embrace that. Now. Live life well. As long as you're on this planet you have time. Use it.
Thank you for this beautiful essay, Kim. It brought up many memories. I, too, worked in NYC in my twenties, and I have to say, looking back, I think my youthful naivety helped me forge my path forward. Perhaps this is the blessing of youth? I was pretty fearless then, but I was also getting to know myself and what I was capable of. I still am on many levels- I don't think that will ever stop. I never want to get complacent about life's offerings and potential adventures. I'm trying to grow old gracefully. I feel more embodied, don't care as much what people think of me, and I far prefer the person I've grown into to the person I was then, even though I genuinely honor my younger self for getting me here in the first place. Ageing is indeed, 'punk rock as fuck!' - until I stand next to a twenty-something in yoga! -;) For goodness' sake, can we please get rid of crop tops?
My 20’s were spent having 7 pregnancies in 7 years, two of which miscarried. My 30’s and 40’s were a haze of childrearing and exhaustion. I’m 59 now, a widow, alone for the most part. Your words of your youth resonated when so many times I felt I was doing life wrong and so self conscience I was unable to enjoy it, but also now at my age I wonder where I belong?
Your words encourage me, make me sit up straighter, and ready to march on being “punch rock as fuck.”
Hi Kelly, let’s stay connected here. It’s not as good as neighbors but it’s something. I think this is your time now. Your body is your own, your time and your resources. You can reinvent everything if you wanted. Have you asked yourself what you want the best 10 years to be like? What would make you happy?
I didn't respond right away as I have been thinking about your questions. I still don't have the exact answers, but there are seeds of ideas and I feel I'm moving in the right direction. You are so right, it is my time now!
And, please forgive the spelling error "punk" to "punch" in my first comment. AutoCorrect keeping me humble.
Spelling errors happen to all of us! No worries. The important thing is that you are thinking about what fulfills and sustains you right now! We are so here for you and a lot of us been here. You are not alone!
Thrust into a moneyed and sophisticated environment when I was put into an exclusive private girls’ school in Rome at 10, I quickly learned which fork to use to assuage my painful sense of not belonging. I never did feel like I “belonged,” but that early experience enabled me to be in many different environments from palaces to peasants’ one-room shacks and be comfortable. I carried my sense of “belonging” with me, and like a chameleon adapted to wherever I found myself. At 86 there isn’t much that can impress me now or make me feel uncomfortable. It’s the connection person-to-person that I look for. Loved your piece of youthful enthusiasm and love. Thanks for a great read!
I had all the potential, but it was just that: papery, wispy potential that might come to something or not——this describes my fragility at that age. I really enjoyed reading this. Thanks.
Just brilliant insights on youth and age and the gifts of our later years! Loaded with pearls and gems, this piece! Thank you for sharing these astute observations, these wise and beautiful words. I must re-share.! 👏🏼🤩👏🏼. Oh yeah, 👍🏼 that Photographer, the series he did on his mother was epic.!!!
Kim, I am Dr Sullivan a neurogeriatric cognitive psychologist and neurorehabilitation physical therapist. Now that we have that out of the way, I would like to talk to you about creating a new job for us seniors. Who wants to be a Wal-Mart greeter, when we can do so much more. Let’s connect
I’m open!
Totally and absolutely. Here’s to giving no fucks and being our actual selves, losses and gains on display. 😊😊
So many good things to remember about growing older. Thank you.
You wrote a story about me! Thank you!
I was under-prepared a lot as a 20-something- year-old. Out of my depth. I cried in a job interview once. Hysterically cried, so the interviewer had to console me."
I only cringed as hard as I did at this because of how much I saw my 20-something self in it...
What an absolutely gorgeous essay.
Damn, so much truth in this. Thanks for sharing your story.
You ROCK! Loved this! 😍
Love it !
I once cried in a job interview too. At 23, I was interviewing for a cook's position. Mortified that my mind had drawn a blank on how to make chicken saltimboca, I burst into tears. Fortunately, the chef was kind. I got the job and still work for the company 34 years later.
I am so thankful for the wisdom and experience that comes with age. I still have some of the same fears and insecurities that I had at 23 but I'm so much better equipped to deal with them now.
I see myself so much in your beautiful essay; it makes me wish I could turn back time and enjoy the circumstances I found myself in - yet - here I am today, like you, wiser, more circumspect, finally comfortable in my own skin. We've earned it.
Yes, that was many of us - but there was a sense of self, too, yes? Enough that you went for Euro money, went to that restaurant, took the chances. Enough that I offered bus fare to the young men who wanted to stick around the next morning, but I got a job in an office instead of trusting my ability with art making. I couldn't make anything perfect. I almost overdosed, or I suppose I did, because I came to with a sore face and three friends staring at me, asking me if I knew my name. Still didn't wake me up (I did quit using albeit a few weeks later, because I decided until I understood why I was trying to kill myself I had to stop). Finally went back to college - and sidetracked myself again at thirty, with a bad marriage and cancer (I beat the 5% chance I had of lasting a year), staying with that marriage, working in an office for almost nine more years, finally getting out of both, when a car almost killed me, taking part of my body, my beautiful pair of legs reduced to one, thirteen weeks in hospital, and I woke up. I lay in that hospital bed, and laughed. It took almost dying three times (I don't count escaping scary people, I don't know why) to finally ask myself how do I want to live. I'd have people ask me what I've learned. I've learned live life well. It doesnt' matter what age, embrace that. Now. Live life well. As long as you're on this planet you have time. Use it.
Thank you for this beautiful essay, Kim. It brought up many memories. I, too, worked in NYC in my twenties, and I have to say, looking back, I think my youthful naivety helped me forge my path forward. Perhaps this is the blessing of youth? I was pretty fearless then, but I was also getting to know myself and what I was capable of. I still am on many levels- I don't think that will ever stop. I never want to get complacent about life's offerings and potential adventures. I'm trying to grow old gracefully. I feel more embodied, don't care as much what people think of me, and I far prefer the person I've grown into to the person I was then, even though I genuinely honor my younger self for getting me here in the first place. Ageing is indeed, 'punk rock as fuck!' - until I stand next to a twenty-something in yoga! -;) For goodness' sake, can we please get rid of crop tops?
My 20’s were spent having 7 pregnancies in 7 years, two of which miscarried. My 30’s and 40’s were a haze of childrearing and exhaustion. I’m 59 now, a widow, alone for the most part. Your words of your youth resonated when so many times I felt I was doing life wrong and so self conscience I was unable to enjoy it, but also now at my age I wonder where I belong?
Your words encourage me, make me sit up straighter, and ready to march on being “punch rock as fuck.”
And, I wish we were neighbors. X
Hi Kelly, let’s stay connected here. It’s not as good as neighbors but it’s something. I think this is your time now. Your body is your own, your time and your resources. You can reinvent everything if you wanted. Have you asked yourself what you want the best 10 years to be like? What would make you happy?
I didn't respond right away as I have been thinking about your questions. I still don't have the exact answers, but there are seeds of ideas and I feel I'm moving in the right direction. You are so right, it is my time now!
And, please forgive the spelling error "punk" to "punch" in my first comment. AutoCorrect keeping me humble.
Spelling errors happen to all of us! No worries. The important thing is that you are thinking about what fulfills and sustains you right now! We are so here for you and a lot of us been here. You are not alone!
Thrust into a moneyed and sophisticated environment when I was put into an exclusive private girls’ school in Rome at 10, I quickly learned which fork to use to assuage my painful sense of not belonging. I never did feel like I “belonged,” but that early experience enabled me to be in many different environments from palaces to peasants’ one-room shacks and be comfortable. I carried my sense of “belonging” with me, and like a chameleon adapted to wherever I found myself. At 86 there isn’t much that can impress me now or make me feel uncomfortable. It’s the connection person-to-person that I look for. Loved your piece of youthful enthusiasm and love. Thanks for a great read!
I had all the potential, but it was just that: papery, wispy potential that might come to something or not——this describes my fragility at that age. I really enjoyed reading this. Thanks.
Just brilliant insights on youth and age and the gifts of our later years! Loaded with pearls and gems, this piece! Thank you for sharing these astute observations, these wise and beautiful words. I must re-share.! 👏🏼🤩👏🏼. Oh yeah, 👍🏼 that Photographer, the series he did on his mother was epic.!!!