For novelist Tess Stimson, life after half a century is the best it’s ever been – and it’s all because she set a few gleeful laws to live by. Here’s her (wo)manifesto
By any measure, 50 is a milestone birthday. Even the most optimistic among us have to admit we’ve probably passed life’s halfway point by now. At 40, you can still tell yourself you’re young, but by 50 there’s no denying that you’re middle-aged.
I need my glasses to read the label on the pills for my sciatica, and when I drop something on the floor, I hesitate before I pick it up while I work out what else I can do while I’m down there. But I’ve found life after 50 is also strangely liberating. My primary evolutionary function – procreation – is over. The baby ship has well and truly sailed, so there’s no more dithering about whether to have just one more before it’s too late.
I have a career that I love and a husband, Erik, 52, who I adore, but my three children, Henry, 28, Matt, 25, and Lily, 20, have all flown the nest, and time seems to be passing ever more quickly. So, on turning 50 last summer, I made a few light-hearted rules to make sure I don’t waste a single minute.
1 Dress for comfort
Sure, six-inch heels make your legs look endless. But they’re also bloody crippling. Fortunately, the fashion for box-fresh white trainers with dresses means I can bin my stilettos and still look bang on trend. I’ve also ditched thongs (like wearing cheese wire) and shapewear (when did you last see a man worrying about his wobbly bits?). I love fashion, but I’m done with suffering for it.
2 Ditch the ‘stuff’
Sorting through my parents’ things after they died taught me that, sooner or later, someone will pick up that must-have souvenir I brought back from Rio de Janeiro and ask, ‘Keep, donate, or bin?’ I’m sick of stuff. When Erik and I moved house during the pandemic, we got rid of two-thirds of everything we owned, and we still have way more than we need. Now, if I bring something into the house, something else has to go. I’m not going to lumber our kids with sorting through endless boxes.
3 Forget the FOMO
Who knows how many New Year’s Eves I have left in my life, but I’m not planning to stay up until midnight to see in another New Year. I’m not in my 40s any more, desperately grasping at the last vestiges of youth. I can finally admit I’d rather be home watching Grantchester with my lovely hubby than partying into the night.
4 Every day is ‘best’
That expensive candle you were given as a house-warming gift? Just light it. Use the Waterford crystal – so what if one of the glasses gets broken? Your children won’t want them anyway. Wear that gorgeous dress to the pub because who knows how many chances you’ll have to wear it again?
