Why I’m Done Hiding My Age

If you’re a woman of a certain age, you might understand the urge to downplay your birthday. To hide the number, joke it off, and scrub your age from your Facebook account. 

That shift in perspective didn’t happen overnight. For years—especially in corporate America—I kept my age quiet. Aging and appearance are critical in the workplace, and I learned early to downplay anything that hinted at my age. We hide our age on Facebook, brush off birthday milestones, and let the world convince us that getting older is something to conceal.

But not anymore. Turning 67 feels like a quiet triumph—and I’m claiming it.

I’ve come to believe birthdays aren’t just something to hide and endure. They’re a chance to reflect on your life, to ask real questions, like: What did I learn this year? What do I want to do next year? 

Another Rotation Around the Sun

When you consider that your birthday is the anniversary of any other rotation around the sun, it takes on new meaning. During my birthday week, I take time to look back at what this year held—the good, the hard, the surprising. I sit with it all. And then I ask myself,  shat do I want this next year to look like? A birthday closes one chapter and opens a new one, ready to be written.

What This Year Taught Me About Aging

This past year hasn’t been easy. My health has given me a few wake-up calls, but it has also provided some answers. The uncertainty taught me as much as the clarity did. I’ve landed in a place that feels more stable, more manageable. I’m starting to feel like I’m on the right track with my body and my brain. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m walking alongside myself instead of chasing something I can’t quite name.

And I got Gabby. That little scruffy dog has disrupted my routines, tested my patience, and somehow carved out a whole new corner in my heart. She came into my life like most things do—messy, imperfect, and exactly on time. 

I’ve also tried to take my own advice this year. Not perfectly. But more often. I finally started saying no to things that drain me and stopped apologizing for setting boundaries. I know it’s working because my friends keep quoting my words back to me. Usually with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

The truth is, I’m grateful to be here. And I’m not going to whisper about it.

From Dread to Gratitude: Reframing Birthdays

I have a precious neighbor. She is one of the most spirited, sharp, joy-filled women I know. For years, she never shared her age. She didn’t want the number to shape how others treated her. Then her 100th birthday arrived, and suddenly everyone knew. We were in awe. But what surprised us most wasn’t her age. It was how much she gave. Yes, we look out for her. But honestly? She looks out for all of us. That’s what aging with grace really looks like. She reminded me that age is never the whole story. It’s just the headline. I know so many women who greet their birthdays with dread, or silence, or that familiar line: “Let’s just skip it this year.” But I can’t skip it. I won’t. Because this birthday—like everyone before it—is a gift not given to everyone.

This isn’t about pretending everything is shiny, easy, or Instagram-worthy. It’s about honoring the year I just lived. About lighting a small candle and saying, ‘Yes.’ This happened. And by the grace of God,  I’m still here.

The Sacred Act of Celebrating Another Year

I think birthdays deserve that kind of reverence. The sacred kind. The kind that says your messy, imperfect life is worthy of celebration simply because you lived it. I think every birthday requires cake.

What I Hope for Women Who Fear Their Birthdays

So, here’s what I hope for you, whether your birthday is near or not: that you pause long enough to see what has bloomed quietly inside you. That you let yourself be proud, even if no one claps. That you remember aging isn’t a problem. It’s a privilege.

And that you celebrate, because you can. Because you’re still here. And because the light inside you is still rising.