Ep 152 Your Best Years After 50: Why Getting Older Doesn't Mean Life Gets Smaller

I recorded this during my birthday week in June. I turned 53! So I want to talk about something that doesn't get said enough: the real fear of getting older isn't about wrinkles or gray hair. It's the fear that life gets smaller. That you stop doing the hard things, the brave things, the things that make you feel like you.

In this episode, I'm challenging that story, not with a pep talk, but with evidence. My own evidence. And I'm inviting you to look at yours.

In this episode:

• The cultural story most women have absorbed about life after 50 — and why it's working against you
• Why pre-limiting yourself is the real danger (not aging itself)
• What Half Dome, backpacking Colorado, and solo travel to Portugal and Spain taught me about what's still possible
• What actually gets better in body, mind, and spirit as you get older
• Three reflection questions to help you rewrite the story you're telling yourself about this season

Resources & links:

• Episodes mentioned: 
  • Episode 115: Lessons Learned in the Colorado Wilderness
  • Episode 117: Do it Scared - Lessons Learned from Climbing Half Dome
• Work with me — Private Coaching: www.kortneyrivard.com
• Instagram: @kortney.a.rivard

If this episode resonated, share it with a woman who needs this reminder. And leave a review — it helps this show reach more women who are ready to stop playing small.

Transcript

0:00

Hey, friends, and welcome back to Real Brave and Unstoppable. I'm your host, Kortney Rivard. Thank you for joining me today. I appreciate you being here, as always. So it's my birthday week this week. I'm turning 53. Yes, 53. And I wanna talk about that. Not in a time is flying and it's terrifying kind of way, 'cause, I mean, it is, but really more from a, I have some things I need to say kind of way, or I wanna say. So I think this episode is one I've been building towards without knowing it. And here's the thing about birthdays for me, especially the ones with big, round numbers or significant milestones, which this one is not really. But there's, uh, this cultural noise that gets kinda loud. And even when you're someone who's done a lot of mindset work, who coaches other people, who genuinely believes in living fully, all of that noise can still get in. The noise sounds like, "You're getting older. Things are slowing down. Your best years are behind you. Life gets smaller from here." And I wanna sit with that one for a second because I think the fear underneath all of that is actually pretty specific. It's not about wrinkles or gray hair, and it's not really even about your body changing. I mean, that's a big part of it, but I think the big fear for a lot of us is that life gets smaller, that you stop doing the hard things, the brave things, the big adventurous things that really make you feel like you. So today I wanna challenge that. Not with some motivation or a pep talk, but really with some evidence, like my own evidence. And I want to invite you to look at your own evidence too because I think that when you actually look at the data from your own life, what you've done, what you've become, what you've survived, what you've chosen, you might find that the story you've been telling yourself about getting older doesn't really match reality. So that's what we're gonna do today, so let's get into it. So I wanna start with a story that most of us have absorbed about what it means to be a woman over 50. Those of you who are in your 40s or even younger, this will apply to you someday obviously since time is undefeated and we just keep getting older. But I wanna be clear, nobody really ever sat us down and read us this story directly word for word. It came in through a lot of smaller messages over time. the movies where the older woman is the wise mentor, never the protagonist. Uh, the ads for anti-aging products that imply aging is a problem to be solved. The well-meaning comments like, "Oh, good for you," when you do something physically active as if it's impressive rather than just, uh, normal. But the story goes something like this, though. In your 20s, life is wide open. The world is your oyster. In your 30s, you're building. In your 40s, you peak. And in your 50s, You start to settle. You start to slow down. You start to hand things off. Now, some of that isn't wrong. I do think there's a natural shift in priorities that happens as we get older. I care about really different things than I did at 30. Uh, my relationship with my body has changed. The things that used to feel urgent don't always feel urgent anymore. And honestly, that part's kind of a gift. But here's where it goes sideways. When the story of things shift gets twisted into things shrink, and we start pre-limiting ourselves before life even asks us to. We start saying things like, "I'm too old for that. That's for younger people. I probably shouldn't push too hard. I've had my adventure. Now it's time to be realistic." And the insidious part we say these things to ourselves, sometimes before anyone else says them to us. We do that limiting work because we've already internalized the story so much. And here's what that does. When you believe life gets smaller after 50, you stop reaching for the bigger things. You pre-shrink your world, and then you look around and think, "See? Life did get smaller." Kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy. But let's think about this. What if life isn't contracting, you just stopped expanding? I'm not asking that to be harsh, I'm asking it because I think it's a question that really changes everything. So I'm gonna tell you about my evidence, and then I wanna invite you to think about yours. Before I do, I wanna acknowledge something. I know not every 50-something woman is out there climbing mountains and traveling solo, and this episode is not about that. This is not about proving your worth through physical feats, I promise. But I wanna share a few specific things from my own life, because I think the details matter. And they're not to impress you, but because when we're vague about the evidence, it doesn't really land. So I'm gonna get specific here. So I've also talked about these on the podcast before, so if you wanna hear a little bit more I'll name the episodes as I'm going through. So the first thing, a few years ago I climbed Half Dome in Yosemite National Park. So for those who haven't heard of it, it's a roughly 17-mile roundtrip hike in Yosemite, with an elevation gain of about 4,800 feet total from the valley floor to the top of Half Dome. And the last 400 feet are straight up a granite dome using a series of metal cables. Your hands on the cables, basically pulling yourself up. There's some wooden two-by-fours every, like, 12 feet or so where the poles that hold the cables go in. So you have a place to, like, rest. The rock, it's granite, and it's been, it's been, this granite, it's m- smooth. It's not, not rough. So you have to have grippy shoes. It's not easy to get traction at all. And I wanna be really honest with you. This was the most terrifying thing I've ever done in my life. I was so full of adrenaline on those cables. I was shaking. I was nervous And I had a moment where I ser- well, I had many moments where I seriously questioned my choices, but I just kept going. And when I stood on the top, I looked out at that view and I thought, "This is what I mean when I say I want to feel alive." That was not the experience of someone whose life was getting smaller. I planned this trip last minute kind of. I sought out permits that were late releases or cancellations. You have to have backcountry permits in Yosemite, and also you do need to have a special permit to climb Half Dome. So I did an overnight backpacking trip. I hiked partway in, slept overnight, and then the next day hiked up to Half Dome with a daypack. Did that, then went and took down camp and hiked back down to my car at the valley floor that day. It was about 12 miles in that day, and I was tired. Very tired. But it was definitely one of those moments where I said I was gonna do something and I did it, and while it was scary, it was a blast. It was really cool. And it felt very much expansive and like, hell yeah. There are people in their 20s that probably wouldn't go backpacking by themselves or climb Half Dome, so you know, age not a factor. I also went solo backpacking in Colorado a few years ago. So carrying a full pack, sleeping in a tent, doing the hard, unglamorous beautiful thing of being out in the backcountry. I don't know, maybe it is glamorous. It's just very dirty. There's no showers. And also this was at an altitude of over 10,000 feet the whole time. Most of the time I was over 11,000 feet. So it was not easy, and this terrain was not flat, let's just say. I was, uh, 50 or fif- maybe 50 at the time, 51 at the time. I can't remember, And here's what I noticed. It wasn't really easier than it would've been at 35. My body is different now. Recovery takes longer. I think I just get tired faster. And not a lot, but, like, a little bit. There are just more things to think about, more to prepare for. The recovery for stuff like that is even more important as we get older. But I was better at it in ways that really matter. I was more patient. I was more present. I was more able to actually enjoy being there instead of rushing through it because I was proving something. I, I enjoyed it for the sheer joy of it. You know, I wasn't trying to prove anything. Age gave me something there, it didn't just take things away. My next example is, traveling solo internationally to Portugal and Spain. Uh, last summer I did that, and I wanna tell you what it felt like to sit alone at a table in Lisbon with a glass of wine and a plate of food I'd ordered myself in a country where I didn't speak the language, with nowhere to be and no one to check in with. On one hand, it was a little awkward and a tiny bit nerve-wracking, but it kinda also felt like freedom. It felt like one of the most alive I've really felt in a long time, and it was something I did in my 50s by myself. Now, here's my point. None of these things just happened to me. Every single one of them required a decision to not make my life smaller or the same, a decision that the story wasn't over, a decision to keep saying yes to hard, expansive, uncomfortable things even when the culture was gently, or sometimes not so gently, suggesting, eh, I should be settling in. And I want you to think about your evidence. Not necessarily mountains or solo travel. That's not the point. But what have you done in this season of your life that's surprised you? What have you navigated that you didn't know you could? What have you chosen that required some real courage? Because I would be willing to bet that if you actually looked at your last few years honestly, if you really looked, you wouldn't find a story of contraction. You'll find a story of someone who's still becoming, still choosing, and still reaching. The fear says life gets smaller. Your life says otherwise. Now, I do wanna be real about one thing. I'm not gonna stand here on my birthday and pretend that nothing is different at 53 than it was at 33. Things are different, and some of those things are real losses. Okay? So you know what I'm talking about, ladies. Perimenopause, it's real. Recovery time is real. The way your body responds to stress is different. Sleep becomes extremely important. Some relationships have shifted or ended, and some of our dreams have really changed shape. Change is real, and I am not here to minimize that, but change is not the same as shrinking, and that distinction is everything So let's talk about what actually becomes available to you in this season in body, mind, and spirit, the three pillars, as we always link things back to. I think there are things that are genuinely better, not despite the aging, but really because of it. So in our bodies, I know this one seems counterintuitive. We're not supposed to be talking about the body as a place of expansion after 50 in some ways maybe, and I get that. But here's what I have found. At this age, I know my body better than I ever have. I've stopped wasting energy fighting it or apologizing for it. I've learned what it actually needs, not what some diet culture or fitness magazine says it should need, but what actually works for me. I've learned when to push. I've learned when to rest. I've learned that strength training is so important and it changes everything. I've learned that sleep is not optional. I have an Oura Ring, and it tells me how much sleep debt I'm in. I kinda love that, and I kinda hate it at the same time. I've learned through all of this that how I feel day to day is directly connected to the choices I'm making. And honestly, like, if I'm willing to take accountability for that, I have more agency over that than I ever believed I did in my 30s. So that's not decline. That's refinement, right? Hard-won, honest, real knowledge about your body that you couldn't have had at 30 because you hadn't lived in it long enough yet. Okay, so in the mind, this one I love because I think the mind piece might be the most underrated gift of getting older. At 53, I genuinely care less about the wrong things, and I know that sounds like a platitude because everyone says that, but sit with that for a second. I care less about what people think of me at the grocery store. I have a client who's very young, and she talks about how she could never go to the grocery store in, like, bum clothes or sweatpants or whatever 'cause she would just feel too self-conscious. And I was like, "I remember. I remember that," like having to have makeup on to go to the grocery store, having to have something that was, like, presentable to go to the grocery store. Now I don't, I don't really care. I care a lot less about whether people approve of my choices. I care less about performing. And what's left when you stop spending energy on all of that is some clarity, real clarity about what really matters, what you actually want, what's worth your time, and what isn't. There's a freedom in your 50s, and I think in your 40s too, that I genuinely don't think is available in your 30s, not because you've stopped caring about things, but because you've finally gotten clear about what's worth caring about. And that clarity is a massive advantage in your relationships, in your work, in every decision you make. The noise has quieted enough so that you can finally hear yourself, that wise inner knowing. So then in the spirit pillar, this is the one I think that matters most for women I work with, and maybe for you too. By 50, most of us has spent a, most of us have spent a lot of years doing what we "should," quote-unquote, building what was expected, saying yes to the things on the checklist. And somewhere in the middle of all that, some of us lost the thread of what actually gives us life, that sense of aliveness. That thing that we do because it makes us feel like ourselves, who, like who we really are What I see in myself and in the women I coach is that after 50, and again, in your 40s maybe too, something shifts. There's an urgency that starts to whisper, "It's your turn now. What do you actually want?" And if you're listening to it, it's an invitation to reconnect with yourself at a level you might not have given yourself permission to access when you were busy building and raising and producing and performing. Who are you now? Not who were you supposed to be, not who do people need you to be, but who are you really in this season? What lights you up? What do you want to build in the second half of your life? Those are not small questions, and they're available to you right now in a way they may not have been 20 years ago. So I wanna be clear, though. None of this is automatic. It just doesn't, happen to us. Life doesn't just magically get bigger after 50. It gets bigger when you decide it will, when you refuse to do that pre-shrinking, when you stay curious instead of fearful and cautious, and when you keep saying yes to the things that feel alive, even if they're kinda uncomfortable. But the raw material is there in your body's hard-won wisdom, in your mind's hard-won clarity, and in your spirit's finally- heard voice. You just have to decide to use it. So now I'm going to invite you to consider writing a different story. And I wanna give you a few questions to sit with, not necessarily to answer right this second, but to carry around with you. Let them kinda do their work. Question one is: What story are you telling yourself about this season of your life? When you think about the next five or 10 years, what do you see? Is it expansion or is it contraction? And is that story actually true, or is it the cultural noise you've absorbed and never questioned? Question two: Where are you pre-shrinking your life? Where are you saying, "I'm too old for that," or, "That's not realistic for someone my age," before anyone has actually told you that? What have you stopped reaching for because you assumed the door was closing? And question three, this is the one I most want you to sit with. What would you do you actually believed your best years were still ahead of you? Not your best years as defined by someone else's measuring stick, but your best years on your terms. The most alive, most yourself, most deeply fulfilling years. What would you do if you believed that was possible? Here's what I know. Some of you are sitting on dreams you've filed under maybe someday or probably not anymore. Some of you have things you've always wanted to do, places to go, ways to feel, things to build that have been kinda collecting dust on the shelf because that cultural story, or perhaps your even your own internal story, said your window was closing. But it's not closing, friends. It might actually just be opening. There's a lot of freedom that comes with getting older. And if you want support in doing that work, if you want someone in your corner helping you figure out what this season is actually supposed to look like for you, what you wanna build, who you wanna be, and how to feel alive in your body and your life, that's the work I do with women inside my private coaching programs. We go deep. We look at all three pillars, body, mind, and spirit, and we build something that actually fits your life and lights you up. Not a generic plan. It's not a one-size-all thing, but something that's genuinely, specifically yours. If that sounds like what you need, just reach out. You can find the link in the show notes, or you can DM me on Instagram. It's kortney.a.rivard. I'd love to talk with you about it. Okay, so I wanna close out this birthday episode with something personal. So every year around my birthday, I have a moment where I just kinda check in with myself and see how are things going? What am I taking into the second half of my year? Not resolutions or goals really, it's more checking in on what were my intentions for the year? How did I say I wanted to feel this year, and how am I doing? And what do I wanna keep doing? What do I wanna stop doing? What's working? What's not working? What I'm taking into 53 is this: I want to keep saying yes. Not to everything, and not at the expense of myself, but I wanna say yes to the things that feel hard and alive and worth doing. I'd love to say yes to experiences that remind me what I'm capable of, yes to the version of my life that's still being written, that doesn't have a ceiling I've decided on yet. If the fear is that life gets smaller, then the antidote is very simple, even if it isn't easy. You just keep choosing bigger. You just keep reaching. You keep putting yourself in rooms and on mountains and in countries where you have to grow. Your best years are totally not behind you. They're being written right now, and you, you get to decide what goes in them. Thank you for being here today. Thank you for celebrating this birthday week with me in your own way by listening. That genuinely means everything to me. And if this episode resonated with you, I would love for you to share it. Send it to a woman in your life who needs this reminder, and leave a review if you haven't yet. It helps the show reach more women who need it. And subscribe so you don't miss what's coming next. And I will see you next week. Until then, stay real, stay brave, and keep going. You've got more in you than you think. I will see you next time