Welcome to the un-becoming. The coffee is hot. The ache is real. And you are not alone.
Here is the secret they bury under all the golf magazines and cruise ads: your sixties are not about becoming more of who you are. They are about un-becoming . 60 something mag
You un-become the striver. That relentless engine in your chest that needed the promotion, the bigger house, the nod of approval from a father who is now gone—it finally sputters. And the silence is terrifying at first. You mistake it for depression. It’s not. It’s presence . Welcome to the un-becoming
You wake up. The coffee takes a little longer to kick in. You scroll your phone, not for news, but for obituaries. Not literally, at first. But figuratively. You check on the ones who are still here, and you take a silent inventory of the ones who are not. And you are not alone
In your thirties, you thought loss was a tragedy. An event. A funeral you dressed up for. In your forties, loss was a disruption—a divorce, a bankruptcy, a parent’s stroke. You fought it with spreadsheets and therapy and crossfit. In your fifties, loss became a rhythm. You learned to dance with it, awkwardly.
The Unraveling: On Losing People, Letting Go of Certainty, and Finding the Real
Let the threads come loose. Let the people who can only handle your performance fall away. Let the career accolades gather dust. Let the plan go off the rails.