As I near forty, I find myself noticing more and more that time hasn’t just taken from me—it’s given me a lot as well. Yes, there are crow’s feet, my knees sometimes creak, and after a long Saturday night, a glass of orange juice and a cheeseburger won’t magically revive me the next morning.
But along the way, I’ve gained something I didn’t fully understand in my twenties: experience, self-awareness, and maybe a bit of wisdom too. Whether at work, in relationships, friendships, or even in how I relate to myself, I move with much more intention than my younger self ever did. Of course, this isn’t unusual: as we move through life, we learn more about ourselves and the world, and like everyone else, I’ve added this knowledge to my toolkit. I don’t burn out as quickly, I don’t fall for every "must-do," and I no longer try to please everyone.
But as I get older, I find myself asking: is this really what growth is about? Is it enough that time makes us wiser?
If we see life as a learning journey, where the goal is to become better and better people, wouldn’t it be just as important to become kinder as well as wiser?
Wisdom is undoubtedly a valuable virtue, but it often creates distance—that kind of "seen it all" calm that can easily turn into cynicism—especially if someone is naturally cynical. And I know I am. My humor is sarcastic, my judgments quick, and over the years, I’ve often laughed at situations I probably should have tried to understand.
But now, I’m trying to approach these questions differently. Just as I try to be more patient with my body, I’m learning to be kinder with people too. When someone snaps at me, I no longer react automatically. Instead, I try to figure out what might be behind it. Maybe they’re just having a bad day. Maybe they’re tired or something else is bothering them. And as I pay attention to this, I notice something inside me softening too.
Practicing kindness has become just as much a part of my self-growth as exercise or reading. I consciously watch out for becoming the person who shrugs everything off and keeps saying, "back in the day..." Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about what works and what doesn’t, but now I want to learn how to share that knowledge with love and care.
As the years pass, it’s clearer to me than ever: now is when it’s decided what kind of person I’ll be in old age. Just as I pay attention to what I eat and how much I move so my body will thank me later, I’m trying to "train" my soul too. To smooth out cynicism and make room for empathy.
I believe a dry-humored but kind and accepting older woman will be better company for everyone—including myself—than a bitter old lady. So that’s who I want to be. For myself, and for others.
