Redefining ‘Letting myself go’: Embracing life at 70

About six weeks from now, I will be 70 years old. 70! That feels like a big number, signifying that I have been on this planet for seven decades and entering the eighth. I can hardly believe it! I certainly don’t feel that old, whatever that means.

Ten years ago (which seems like just yesterday), as my 60th birthday approached, I looked forward to reaching that milestone. I told myself that reaching 60 would permit me to truly be myself, or in other words, to no longer care what others thought–to let myself go.

I had witnessed older people in my life lose their filter and let themselves go, so to speak, saying whatever was on their minds. I’d also heard of women who embraced their individuality later in life, by living their lives to the fullest, however they saw fit. I thought that maybe it was something that magically happens to everyone. As 60 approached, I wondered when it would happen to me. Would I, indeed, let myself go?

News flash: It didn’t happen. Still in the clutches of an undiagnosed eating disorder, I found myself caring more than ever about what others thought. I became more obsessed with maintaining a low weight and slim body so that no one could accuse me of ‘letting myself go’ as I aged.

I also had a new job, which presented new challenges that my ED happily latched onto, increasing my insecurities and self-doubt. Not only did I have to look good, but I had to be good. So much for magically losing my filter or letting myself go. Instead, I added filter upon filter and held onto the thin ideal more tightly, with the ED in charge.

I felt special; I knew ‘the secret’

Something magical did happen, however, as my 65th birthday was on the horizon. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I decided to be assessed for an eating disorder. Until that point, I hadn’t been diagnosed with an ED, but deep down, I had suspected that one existed. The problem was that I hadn’t seen that as a bad thing. Instead, I saw it as the means by which I managed to “maintain” my weight. I felt special; I knew “the secret.” Why would I want to give that up?

The reason I call it magical is that suddenly a switch flipped in my brain, and the veil was lifted. I glimpsed the truth of how I’d been living in restriction for decades, and I didn’t want to live that way anymore. It may have been one positive aspect that emerged from the COVID-19 pandemic.

During the early days of lockdown, I was at home with my husband, no longer at work comparing myself to others. Health was also top of mind, and I knew things needed to change if I was to be as healthy as possible. Whatever the catalyst, I am forever grateful that I was diagnosed and fortunate enough to obtain treatment. Everyone doesn’t have that privilege.

Given all that’s happened in the past decade, will I be able to lose my filter or let myself go when I turn 70? That remains to be seen. I don’t want to lose the filter that promotes kindness and compassion because losing that is never a good thing. Growing up, I frequently heard older adults comment on others’ bodies, that were very hurtful.

One thing I’ve learned since recovering from my ED is that body-shaming is highly harmful and dangerous. Even giving compliments on someone’s body can be problematic, as it could fuel that person’s ED or contribute to the development of one. That is one filter that has grown stronger as I’ve learned to change how I look at the world and be less judgmental. Other people’s bodies are none of my business, and mine is none of theirs.

Through recovery, I’ve learned that a person’s body is the least interesting thing about them.

As for letting myself go, I want to give that phrase a new meaning. Society often promotes the phrase to mean that a person, usually a woman, has given up on taking care of herself and no longer cares about the consequences.

As a teenager, when I heard that phrase, it was often in reference to someone who had gained weight. During my ED treatment and recovery, I’ve learned that nothing is that simple.

Weight fluctuates during a person’s lifetime for a multitude of reasons, and no one has the right to judge another person. No doubt because of the ED, I lived a life full of insecurities about my appearance, and by extension, never felt totally free to be myself.

My life was full of restrictions

I never relaxed or dared to be content with the status quo; I always strove to please, to improve, to be better. The problem with this was that improve meant achieving and maintaining a “perfect” body, not striving to expand my horizons or follow my dreams. The ED discouraged that type of thinking or growth. As a result, my life was full of restrictions, not only in terms of how I nourished my body.

By constantly trying to be smaller, my goals and dreams also became smaller. This is the lie that diet culture preaches, which keeps many people not only stuck, but hating themselves at the same time.

Who or what was I trying to be better than? Too much energy was spent trying to please everyone but myself. I gave the opinions of strangers I hadn’t encountered more importance than my own.

One major regret is the amount of time I wasted pursuing that impossible goal. Not only was it pointless, it never brought happiness or made me better in any way, both literally and figuratively. Always trying to be better than everyone else set me up for failure and created a competitive attitude that took much joy out of my life.

That is no way to live. The ED also made me compete with myself and taught me not to trust my body. The number on the scale, even if it satisfied me for a moment, fueled anxiety about maintaining that number or seeing it drop lower. ED’s way of life was a never-ending, exhausting existence.

As my 70th birthday approaches, I’m going to focus on embracing myself. I want to let myself enjoy all that life has to offer on my terms, not what society dictates. There is definitely less life ahead of me than behind me; I do not want to spend it conforming to society’s ideas as to what a 70-year-old woman should be. I have yet to always harness that magic, but I’m ready and willing to try. After all, I’m not getting any younger!

And by the way, there’s no need to wait until age 60 or 70 to let yourself go. Being true to oneself is a worthy goal at any age!