There’s No Such Thing as ‘Too Old’ for That

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As our kids have grown, a lot of the things that once felt out of reach have become part of our lives again. With five kids, we now have the freedom to enjoy spontaneous dinners and happy hours, trusting our older kids to hold down the fort. It’s a kind of freedom that we hadn’t felt since we were too young to even think about happy hour.

Now, hitting our mid-30s, every night out comes with a mix of excitement and that nagging thought: “Are we too old for this?”

• Am I too old to stay out late?
• Too old to dance like nobody’s watching?
• Too old to jam out to the latest music?
• Too old to wear that cute outfit?
• Too old to enjoy life to the fullest?

Just the other week, I was reminded of this when I found myself leaving a club in Las Vegas at 4 AM. My friend Mark turned to me and said, “We need to enjoy this while we can, because hitting 40 means it’s game over.” At that moment, I thought he was right—maybe I was already pushing it.

But now, as I approach my 40s, those once-clear age boundaries are starting to blur. Recently, Mark and I spent a couple of days in Las Vegas, where we attended a concert on the roof of the trendy Cosmopolitan Hotel. We dressed up, got there early, and snagged a great spot.

Suddenly, a wave of twenty-somethings arrived, all dressed in similar casual outfits, and I felt a twinge of insecurity in my stylish black dress. But I pushed that aside and decided to embrace the fun. We danced, sang our hearts out, splurged on overpriced drinks, and left early for a good night’s sleep.

In the past, I would have been determined to stay out until the very end, but now I’m finally understanding the value of knowing when to call it a night.

Just last weekend, my high school friends, Sarah and Lisa, and I went on a getaway—a rare treat considering we have ten kids among us. To celebrate Sarah’s birthday, we booked affordable flights to Florida and stayed at my mother-in-law’s place in a retirement community by the Gulf.

We had been looking forward to this trip for weeks, jokingly calling it our DGAF (don’t give a f***) weekend. Feeling self-conscious about our bodies in swimsuits? DGAF. Unsure if our outfits matched? DGAF. Mimosas at breakfast? Absolutely DGAF!

However, when we arrived at an ocean-side tiki bar and saw a group of 80-somethings tearing up the dance floor, our bravado started to wane. “Wow, these folks could teach us a thing or two about DGAF,” Lisa remarked.

We’re getting there, though. I used to focus on the younger crowd, worrying it meant I was entering a stage of life that was less than acceptable. Now, I find myself looking up to those in their late 40s who are having a blast, totally unbothered by anyone else’s opinions. I can be like that too, right?

Those lively seniors dancing away were a wake-up call for me. Sure, I might not engage in certain activities that seem too wild for my age, but I’ve already moved on from that. I can no longer pretend to be in my 20s, and honestly, I don’t want to.

Getting older isn’t just about what you can’t do anymore; it’s about what you can do. You can wear comfy boots instead of painful heels and actually enjoy yourself without worrying about how you look. You can go on vacations with adult money to treat yourself. You can choose to party hard, or you can take a cozy night in without regret.

The only limits I face are set by my own body, mind, and how much I care about others’ opinions regarding my choices. I’ve packed in a lot of fun in the last few years, and I have no plans of slowing down. I’m learning to let go of any thoughts about an “expiration date.” There will always be more chances to dance the night away, whether I’m 40, 60, or even rocking a bikini at 80.