I turned 50 last week.
And somewhere between birthday cake, Las Vegas and realizing I have now officially lived half a century, I’ve come to a conclusion:
Getting older has made me nicer.
It has also made me meaner.
😂
I realize those two things should probably cancel each other out.
They do not.
Somehow, at 50, I have more patience than I’ve ever had in my life…
and approximately zero patience for certain things.
And honestly?
I think I finally understand the difference.
I Have More Grace Than I Used To
Twenty-year-old me thought everything was urgent.
Everything mattered.
Every disagreement needed to be resolved.
Every misunderstanding needed to be explained.
Every plan needed to go according to plan.
And if somebody didn’t like me?
Well, obviously we needed to hold a full congressional investigation into why.
😂
Fifty-year-old me?
People are complicated.
Life is complicated.
Everybody has stuff going on that you know absolutely nothing about.
People make mistakes.
People say the wrong thing.
People forget things.
Plans change.
Dinner burns.
You gain weight.
You lose weight.
You change careers.
You change your mind.
You think you know exactly where your life is going and then life says:
“That’s adorable.”
And takes a hard left.
I’ve gotten much better at giving people—and myself—a little room to be human.
But My Tolerance for Nonsense Has Absolutely Plummeted
This is where the meaner part comes in.
😂
I no longer have much interest in:
Drama.
Passive aggression.
One-sided relationships.
People who only call when they need something.
Being guilted into things I don’t want to do.
Explaining the same boundary 14 different ways because somebody didn’t like the first 13.
And especially…
people wasting my time.
Because if turning 50 has made anything crystal clear, it’s that time is the one thing I am absolutely not getting more of.
I can make more money.
I can buy more stuff.
I can change plans.
I can rebuild.
I can start over.
But I cannot manufacture another Tuesday.
So I’m considerably more selective about who and what gets mine.
I Don’t Need to Win Every Argument Anymore
This may be one of the biggest changes.
There was a time when I needed people to understand my side.
Not necessarily agree with me.
But understand.
So I would explain.
And explain.
And clarify.
And provide examples.
And possibly prepare exhibits A through F.
😂
Now?
Sometimes I just think:
Okay.
You can think that.
I know what happened.
You know what happened.
The Lord knows what happened.
We do not need to assemble a jury.
😂
There is an incredible amount of peace in realizing that you don’t have to attend every argument you’re invited to.
I’ve Also Stopped Trying to Be Everybody’s Cup of Tea
This one took me a while.
I think a lot of us spend our younger years trying to make ourselves easier for other people to like.
Don’t be too loud.
Don’t be too opinionated.
Don’t say that.
Don’t post that.
Don’t wear that.
Don’t make anybody uncomfortable.
Don’t let somebody think you’re difficult.
And somewhere along the way you realize:
Some people aren’t going to like you.
Even if you’re perfectly nice.
Even if you explain yourself.
Even if your intentions are good.
Even if you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.
And here’s the part that took me almost 50 years to really understand:
That’s okay.
I’m not everybody’s cup of tea.
Somebody out there probably thinks I’m more like a warm Diet Coke they accidentally left in the car.
😂
They are entitled to their opinion.
Strangely, I Think I Like People More Now
This is the weird part.
Because you’d think having less tolerance would make me more cynical.
It hasn’t.
I actually think I’ve become softer toward people while becoming harder about behavior.
Those are different things.
I have more compassion for someone who’s struggling.
More patience for someone who’s learning.
More understanding when somebody is overwhelmed.
More appreciation for people who are simply doing the best they can.
But I also understand that having compassion for someone doesn’t require giving them unlimited access to your life.
You can love somebody and still need distance.
You can understand why somebody behaves the way they do without volunteering to be the person they behave that way at.
That distinction?
Took me a minute.
😂
I Care Less About Looking Stupid
This may be my favorite part of getting older.
I’ll ask the question.
I’ll try the thing.
I’ll make the video.
I’ll start over.
I’ll admit I don’t know.
I’ll laugh when I screw it up.
Because I’ve finally realized something:
Everybody is mostly thinking about themselves anyway.
😂
That embarrassing thing you said three years ago that occasionally visits your brain at 2:14 AM?
Nobody remembers.
They’re awake thinking about their own embarrassing thing.
We’re all just lying there individually reliving something stupid we did in 1998.
Very efficient system.
I Don’t Confuse Peace With Keeping Everybody Happy Anymore
Those aren’t the same thing.
For a long time, peace meant:
Nobody is upset.
Nobody is disappointed.
Nobody is mad at me.
Everything is fine.
But sometimes keeping everybody else happy requires making yourself miserable.
That’s not peace.
That’s customer service.
😂
Actual peace sometimes looks like saying no.
It sometimes looks like leaving.
It sometimes looks like not responding.
It sometimes looks like changing your mind.
And occasionally it looks like letting somebody be disappointed in you without immediately rushing in to fix their feelings.
That doesn’t make you mean.
Although 30-year-old me would probably like to schedule a meeting to discuss it.
Maybe This Is What 50 Looks Like
I don’t feel old.
Well…
sometimes my knees have a different opinion.
😂
But I don’t.
If anything, I feel more comfortable being myself than I did at 30 or 40.
Not because I finally figured everything out.
Good Lord, no.
I’ve just figured out that nobody else has either.
We’re all improvising.
Some people just have nicer handbags while they do it.
And that realization makes life considerably easier.
A Front Porch Rachel Thought
Maybe getting older doesn’t actually make you nicer or meaner.
Maybe it just makes you clearer.
Clearer about what matters.
Clearer about what doesn’t.
Clearer about who you are.
Clearer about what you’re willing to tolerate.
Clearer about where you want to spend your time.
At 50, I have more patience for mistakes and less patience for games.
More compassion for people and less tolerance for disrespect.
More willingness to forgive and less willingness to repeatedly volunteer for the same lesson.
I don’t need everybody to like me.
But strangely…
I think I like people more.
Maybe that’s the sweet spot.
Or maybe I’ve just reached the age where I’m tired and would rather go home.
😂
Either way…
50 seems pretty good so far.
Real Estate. Real Life. Rachel.
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