60 to 180 in 60 Seconds
Hear me out...
There’s a stubborn myth
floating around that turning 60 is your cue to dim your light, lower your
voice, and blend politely into the background. Apparently, this is when you’re
meant to swap stilettos for flip-flops, trade your bold opinions for polite nodding,
and plan your days around dinner at four and bed by nine.
To that, I say: Nope. Have
you seen the state of the world?
What if - stay with me - you
stopped playing the "good girl"? What if, instead of slowing down,
you floored it, took your foot off the brake, and let that engine roar?
What if those silver
strands you’re sporting are how you radiate and shine? What if those fine lines
are bold underlines beneath a life lived out loud: proof of belly laughs, bad
decisions, great sex, heartbreak survived, and victories hard-won on the
streets?
This version of you is way
more fun, but more importantly, she is empowered and powerful. You’ve developed
that deliciously dangerous sense of humour that only arrives when you realise
you’ve officially run out of fucks to give. You have nothing left to lose, and
that is a powerful place to be to affect change.
We have to make things
right. Silence is no longer an option, and playing into the system is merely
compliance. For our daughters and our sons, let’s rewrite the old standards.
Imagine you’re in the
driver’s seat of a slightly impractical, wildly fabulous convertible on a road
with no speed limit.
- No Waze: You’re out there finding your
own way to a new world.
- No indicators: You turn left because
the road feels right.
- No apologies: You hit potholes
head-on; your suspension is built from grit, scars, and sheer bloody
resilience.
Windows down. Music loud.
Hair wild and untamed. You’ve been to the workshop, and the upgrades are
installed.
Retired? Please. More like
tireless.
This time, it isn't about
spreadsheets and school runs. It isn’t about clocking in or Zoom meetings. It’s
full-blown Thelma & Louise energy - minus the cliff, and with better
snacks, deeper humanity, unbridled passion, and taller tales.
Slowing down? Meh. Leaning
into the curves? Mamma Mia.
So, slide that keffiyeh
on, wrap your hands around the wheel, and feel that engine hum beneath your
feet. The tank is full, the rules are meant to be challenged, and the world is
finally... finally... yours to shape.
Are you ready to burn some
rubber? You didn’t come this far to coast.
So... where are we driving
first?
Well said! π ππ» “Retired? More like tireless!” is your motto ππΌπͺ·π
ReplyDeleteThanks, Fizie, you know me so well...vroom vroomπ
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