6 min
Who Decided 50 Means Beige Pants?
Recently, I was invited to my friend Paul's 80th birthday party. To his credit, he did it up right. We all dressed in an '80s theme, danced to '80s music, and he even hired a Michael Jackson impersonator. It was a blast—and it got me thinking. Why do we treat milestone birthdays as such big moments? And what flashes in your head when you read "80th birthday"? A rocking dance floor—or a rocking chair? The Big Deal About Big Birthday Numbers Somewhere along the way, we decided that birthdays ending in zero were cosmic mile-markers. Turn 50? Buy beige pants. Turn 70? Slow down. Turn 80? Put away your passport. Really? Who wrote this memo—and why weren't we asked to edit it? Here's the truth: age is a marker, not a mandate. You don't "have to" start coasting at 50. You might actually be hitting your stride. At 70, maybe you're still climbing mountains (literal or metaphorical). At 80, maybe it's not about stopping travel but upgrading to business class—because you've earned the legroom. The Year Before: A Release Valve Melissa Kirsch recently pointed out something fascinating in her recent New York Times article, "Banner Year: The Year Before a Milestone (39, 59, 79) Often Carries More Anticipation and Anxiety Than the Milestone Itself. You're approaching the summit," full of pent-up energy and maybe even dread. And then you get there—and it's oddly a relief. You've crested the hill. The anticipation is gone. You're not nearing 70 anymore—you are 70. Sometimes naming the number feels like releasing a pressure valve. The Psychology of Birthday Milestones Humans love structure. We love mental reset buttons—New Year's Day, Mondays, and yes, milestone birthdays. Psychologists refer to it as the "fresh start effect." It's why we so often decide to start new habits after birthdays or holidays. But here's where it gets tricky: we often judge our progress against societal norms we've internalized without question. Be married by 30. Have kids by 40—career set by 50. Start winding work down by 60. Head to the bleachers by 70—health issues by 80. You get the point. These invisible benchmarks can make milestone birthdays feel less like celebrations and more like report cards. Instead of asking "What awed me this decade?" we ask "Why haven't I achieved X by now?" UC Berkley, Psychologist Dacher Keltner, in his book titled Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder, reminds us that awe is a muscle we can develop through experiences such as music, nature, crowds, or small acts of gratitude. What if we countered our harsh self-judgments with awe instead? What if milestone birthdays became moments to marvel at what we've experienced rather than tally what we haven't accomplished? Instead of seeing milestones as end points, why not use them as launchpads? At 50, instead of coasting, maybe you finally train for that half-marathon—or half-marathon Netflix binge—both count. At 70, you don't have to slow down—you might adjust the pace. Hike the mountain, but pack the good snacks. At 80, don't stop travelling—travel better. Upgrade your flight, book the tour guide, or better yet, let your grandkids carry the luggage. Milestones are invitations, not limitations. The Self-Fulfilling Prophecy of Age What we whisper to ourselves about aging matters. A lot! Psychologist Robert Merton coined the now infamous term "self-fulfilling prophecy": hold an expectation, behave as though it's true, and—voilà—it becomes true. Becca Levy's Stereotype Embodiment Theory at Yale demonstrates how cultural age stereotypes become internalized, ultimately affecting our physical, cognitive, and psychological well-being. Decades of research confirm it: people who view aging positively live 7.5 years longer on average than those who don't. Your expectations are literally a health factor. So when we tell ourselves "70 means slowing down," guess what? We often slow down. But if we say, "70 means redirecting my energy," the body and mind rise to meet it. Real-Life Icons Who Didn't Get the Memo Need proof? Could you just look around? Barbara Walters retired at 84 and lived to 93. Andy Rooney continued to share his witty commentaries on 60 Minutes until the age of 92. Grandma Moses began painting in her 70s and built an entire art career. Laura Ingalls Wilder published her first Little House book in her 60s. Benjamin Franklin produced much of his most famous work after the age of 50. These aren't exceptions. They're reminders that energy, purpose, and influence aren't tied to the number of candles. Beyond Decades: Other Ways of Marking Time Why are we so obsessed with zero-ending birthdays? Some ancient Greek philosophers suggested dividing life into seven-year stages. Other traditions slice life into "seasons" or chapters. Victor Hugo famously quipped: "Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age." I'd add: "Seventy is the mischievous middle age of wisdom, and eighty the encore tour." We may need to stop seeing decades as finish lines and start seeing them as chapters. The real story isn't the number—it's how you're writing the next page. Routines, Rituals, Traditions As I reflected on Paul's 80th birthday, I realized that birthdays are part of a bigger theme: how we structure our lives. We often use "routine," "ritual," and "tradition" interchangeably—but they aren't the same. Routines ground us—morning coffee, workouts, journaling. They stabilize our health and cater to every age group. These predictable patterns provide comfort, calmness, and a sense of direction. They're the scaffolding that holds our days together, especially during times of uncertainty or transition. And here's something beautiful: the best way to support someone older in your life is to make connection a routine. Tuesdays on the telephone with Toonie. Jeopardy on Wednesday with Gram. Sunday brunch with Dad. These aren't just nice gestures—they're anchors. They say "you matter" in the most reliable way possible: showing up, predictably, with love. Rituals connect us to meaning—lighting a candle, walking at dusk. They remind us of our values and create moments of intention in our lives. Rituals transform ordinary acts into sacred pauses. Traditions connect us to community—holiday dinners, family reunions. But some age as well as polyester leisure suits—time to remix them. Traditions connect us to community—holiday dinners, family reunions. But some age as well as polyester leisure suits—time to remix them. The key is to keep what serves us: comfort, connection, and a sense of continuity. However, we should abandon the "I should have accomplished X by now" narrative and replace it with one of celebration and gratitude. Ask not "Am I where society says I should be?" but rather "Am I building a life that feels meaningful to me?" One of my favourite traditions comes from Denmark: on birthdays, the Danish flag is placed at the celebrant's place setting. It's a small gesture, but it turns an ordinary meal into a moment of honour. Sometimes it's the little flags, not the giant balloons, that matter most. Practical Tips (With a Wink) Write Your Own Script: Stop asking, "What should I be doing at this age?" Ask instead, "What do I want to be doing?" Shrink the Feast, Keep the Fun: Big productions can be scaled down into smaller, more frequent micro-celebrations. Take a page from Frank Sinatra and do it "my way." Invest in Memories, Not More Stuff: Hot-air balloon ride VS another knick-knack. Say Yes First, Edit Later: Pickleball at 75? Say yes. Forget your shoes later. Celebrate in Advance: Start the party a month early. Stretch the milestone like an all-inclusive buffet. Here's a thought: the older we get—whether it's 80, 90, or more—the more we should celebrate. Why restrict joy to just one day? Turn it into a birthday week. Or even better, a birthday month. We've earned it. A Toast to Us Milestone birthdays aren't warnings to slow down; they're reminders to cherish the present. They're reminders to double down. They're invitations to rewrite rituals, remix goals, and re-ignite purpose. If younger generations can say "live your best life," then let's steal that line and run with it (but don't break a hip). At every age, every stage, we can choose growth over decline, curiosity over fear, and why over why not. So the next time you're invited to an 80th birthday, picture the dance floor, not the rocking chair. Paul sure did. When I asked what's next, he smiled and said: "Finding ways to make it to 90!" Raise a glass and repeat after me: "If not now…when?" Because we're not over the hill—we're still building trails on it, with snacks. Sue Don't Retire... ReWire!
