Turning Sixty
An Interesting thing that happens when you tell someone you’re turning sixty. They tend to look at you with a kind of respectful pity, as if you’ve crossed some invisible threshold into a polite kind of decline. There’s a moment of hesitation, perhaps they’re calculating whether to offer congratulations or condolences. It’s as if sixty still carries the cultural echo of old age, a label that doesn’t quite fit with the people actually wearing it.
But here’s the thing: sixty today is not what sixty used to be. In the UK, we’re living longer, healthier lives than any generation before us. The age at which people retire is shifting upwards, not just because of economic necessity but because many of us want to keep contributing, creating, and exploring. Turning sixty in 2025 is less a curtain call and more an intermission, a chance to stretch our legs, grab a glass of something sparkling, and gear up for the second act.
Of course, there’s no denying that the passage of time leaves its mark. Our bodies change, our energy might fluctuate, and the mirror sometimes offers surprises. But there’s a quiet confidence that often arrives in our sixties. We know ourselves better. We care less about what other people think. We’re more willing to say no to what doesn’t serve us and yes to what truly matters. For many, it’s a period of reinvention, not retreat.
In the UK, we’re fortunate to have resources and infrastructure that can support a vibrant later life, whether that’s access to lifelong learning, community projects, cultural activities, or the NHS (though admittedly stretched). There are walking groups, choirs, local history clubs, community gardens, and book festivals in almost every corner of the country, offering connection and purpose for those willing to step forward and get involved.
And let’s not forget the Internet, this strange, sprawling space that lets us start businesses from our kitchen tables, reconnect with school friends from forty years ago, or learn photography, Spanish, or how to make the perfect sourdough. Sixty is not a barrier to curiosity. If anything, it’s a licence to finally focus on the things we never had time for while juggling work, family, and life’s relentless demands.
There’s also something liberating about knowing that time is finite. It sharpens our attention. It reminds us not to put off the things we’ve always wanted to do. Whether that’s taking up painting, travelling to a long-dreamed-of place, starting a podcast, mentoring a younger person, or simply spending more time with the people who bring us joy, our sixties can be a time of tremendous richness, if we let them.
So maybe we stop thinking of turning sixty as the beginning of the end. Maybe it’s the end of the beginning, the point where we stop chasing someone else’s idea of success and start defining our own. Maybe our best years really are still ahead of us, not because we’ve dodged decline, but because we’ve earned a kind of wisdom and freedom that youth can’t quite grasp.
Here’s to the next chapter, written on our own terms, in our own time, and with a spark in our step.
Sources
Health state life expectancy, UK Office for National Statistics (2023)
Reframing ageing: Public perceptions and changing the conversation Centre for Ageing Better (2023)
Lifelong learning and mental wellbeing in later life NHS England (2024)