5 Ways the World Makes Me Feel Invisible – and Why I’m Not Going Quietly | Sixty and Me

#1: Perception of People I Don’t Know

Speaking of being booted out of relevance, let’s talk about Costco. Yes, that magical land where buying five pounds of pretzels and 150 toilet paper rolls in one trip is somehow totally normal. My husband and I were there, minding our own business on a Friday night (because, really, where else are we going?), when the pharmacist tech, who was WANDERING through the fresh food aisle, spotted us. You’d think we were in line for free cake samples, the way she approached.

“Hi! Would you like a COVID booster?”

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m all for health and safety. But I couldn’t help noticing that she wasn’t offering that booster to the two young ladies by the rotisserie chickens. No, she zoomed right in on us, like we had a flashing neon sign over our heads that read, Old Enough for a Booster Shot. I mean, come on. Just because my cart contained the giant hemorrhoidal cream (thanks, childbirth!) doesn’t mean I’m one step away from a walker. And then, to add insult to injury, the pharmacist tech had the nerve to ask, “Have you gotten your pneumonia shot?”

Pneumonia?! I had just entered my 60s the month before. It was like a sucker punch of ageism, right there next to a fresh fish with one accusing eye staring into my soul.

#2: The Perception of People I Do Know  

Back in year 30 of my teaching career, when I still had energy, ambition, and the ability to stay up past 9 PM, I was thinking my years of experience counted for something. But nope, enter the fresh-faced newbie with her Pinterest-perfect bulletin boards and a glint in her eye like she’s about to revolutionize education. And the thing is, she thinks she knows better. She thinks she’s the next big thing, while I sit there, sipping my coffee, knowing full well she too will walk right into the brick wall I had hit 10 years prior.

One of the hardest questions I got when I turned 50 (!) was, “So, when are you going to retire?” It was usually tossed out casually, like we’re chatting about weekend plans, but man, does it sting. It feels like they’re saying, “Why are you still here when there are fresh folks just waiting to take your place?” I know they don’t mean to make me feel like I’m overstaying my welcome, but it’s tough not to take it personally.

Every time someone asked, I found myself wondering, “Am I too old? Are they hinting that I’m out of touch? Is it weird that I have some lesson plans that are older than they are? And those plans still work better than your TikTok teaching trends, sweetie.”

It’s a complicated emotion because I still loved what I was doing. I wasn’t ready to hang up my outdoor recess whistle, but the question made me feel like maybe it was time. How do you answer that without sounding defensive? It’s not just about work. It feels like a question about your relevance, your purpose. It’s as if the world loves putting us on ‘clearance’ as soon as we hit 50, whether we’re in line at Costco or in the teachers’ lounge.

#3: Standards of Beauty in the Media

And as if constantly being asked when you’re retiring isn’t enough, you’ve got the media reminding you that the moment you hit 50, you’re generally not beauty-magazine material either.

Back when I was 16, the media was already full of advice on how to “be your best self,” which of course meant fitting into a very narrow idea of beauty. I remember flipping through Seventeen magazine and coming across a tip that said if you weren’t sure whether you needed a bra, you could test it by putting a pencil under your breast. If it stayed in place, congratulations! You were officially in need of support.

Being somewhat well-endowed, I marched straight to the kitchen, grabbed a pencil, and sure enough, it stuck. But, just for fun, I thought I’d take it a step further. I grabbed a can of Campbell’s tomato soup and, wouldn’t you know it, that stayed too. Now, at 60, I have to laugh and wonder – could I hold up a quart (2 liters) of V8 Juice or even a carton of milk?

It’s funny how these ridiculous little magazine tests stick with us. But when you really think about it, the media’s messages about women, whether we’re 17 or 77, aren’t all that different. Back then, we were worried about bras and beauty tips, too.

Now, in the 21st century, the pressure to maintain a certain standard of beauty hasn’t waned. It has multiplied, thanks to social media. It doesn’t matter how old you are. You Google one thing, and suddenly, your feed is flooded with stories about stars caught – gasp! – without makeup, or breathless headlines about “aging gracefully,” which somehow still manage to make wrinkles and dark spots sound like flaws we need to “battle” with anti-aging creams and “age-defying” miracles.

We live in a world where “anti-aging” has become a literal war cry, and the message is clear: if you aren’t thin, perky, and sexy, exactly what are you good for? It’s as if aging is something to be fought off at all costs.

And while it’s heartwarming to see older women in the workplace or on-screen, it’s often framed as some sort of oddity – “Look at her go!” – as if continuing to exist and thrive after a certain age is a miracle in itself.

All I’m asking for is when I look online for a mother-of-the-groom dress, I shouldn’t be seeing all the models of those dresses as young, perky, and in their early 20s.

#4: Standards of Relevance the Young Vs Mature-Ish

When you’re young, the world seems to run on a beauty standard as unattainable as winning the lottery. Flawless skin, a waistline the size of a toddler’s, and hair that manages to be wavy and shiny at all times. But when you get older, the standard takes a curious shift. Suddenly, it’s not about being flawless; it’s about “aging gracefully,” which is code for “look 40 until you’re 90.”

And the pressure doesn’t let up; it just changes its demands.

Wrinkles? Fine, but only the delicate, “I’ve lived a full life” kind, not the ones from decades of worrying about your kids.

Gray hair? Acceptable, but only if it’s artfully highlighted and styled like you just stepped out of a salon. Heaven forbid you let it do its own thing unless you’re aiming for a vibe somewhere between “wise sage” and “neglected houseplant.”

But do you know what? Experience isn’t trendy, and that’s the problem. The world is in love with youth, with the idea that younger is smarter, faster, better. I’ve already been there and done that. They haven’t been my age yet, and that makes me amazing. And every time I hear, “You look good for your age!” Just say I look good. You don’t need the age qualifier unless you’re planning to say it to a bottle of bourbon.

#5: Standards Of Relevance WOMEN VS MEN

Finally, let’s talk about the double standard between women and men. It’s like we’re playing two different games, but no one gave us the rulebook. I don’t want to sound sexist as I rant about ageism, but according to my Googling abilities, 92.6% of companies in the beauty industry are led by men even though on average, women spend $69/year more than men on beauty products.

My limited research shows that a significant majority of beauty‑focused social media content targets women. For example, a study from Dove released last year, found that two-thirds (66%) of all women feel pressure to look young, an insecurity reinforced by the plethora of anti-aging beauty products on the market. Here is the link to the uplifting ad that went with the article: Beauty Never Gets Old.

Men get to age into “distinguished” with their graying temples and laugh lines that apparently scream “seasoned” and “wise.” They grow facial hair and suddenly they’re sexy silver foxes, while I’m desperately trying to figure out how to get rid of this odd hair growing on my chin and spending small fortunes on creams and serums said to be age-defying. It’s like getting older for women means we’re graded on a different curve than men.

There was a fascinating Facebook post a few years back. I found it interesting and turned it into a lesson for my lovely 8- and 9-year-old 3^rd graders back when it came out. It featured real magazine covers aimed at girls versus boys.

The Boys’ Life cover showed astronauts, athletes, and adventurers. Meanwhile, the Girl’s Life cover was all about makeup, fashion, and how to look perfect. Some amazing people changed the original Girls’ Life cover to reflect the way a Boys’ Life cover would typically be. Here is the picture:

The message was clear. Boys can do things, and girls should look good doing nothing. Is this ageism? Maybe it’s a blurred line that led me here, but the invisibility of the older generation had to start somewhere, right? Here’s the link if you want to read more about this: Girls’ Life Altered.

Conclusion

So, it turns out I do know how I feel about all the birthdays I’ve had.

I’m aging, but I will NEVER be old. I’m experienced, but not often valued. And being invisible? At times, it’s liberating, like when I can wear sweatpants to the store and nobody bats an eye. But mostly, it’s irritating. I’m not irrelevant just because I look older than a college co-ed. I still have ideas, opinions, and plenty to contribute, even if I sometimes forget where I left my phone.

In the end, what bothers me most about ageism is the assumption that we’ve stopped learning – that we’re stuck in our ways. The truth is, I’m still evolving. I’m just doing it with a little more sass and a lot more time spent at Costco. So, while the world may try to sideline us with pneumonia shots and retirement questions, I’m not ready to sit out the game just yet. I’ve still got plenty of things to say, even if my phone has mysteriously disappeared into the black hole of my purse.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

Have you ever felt “pharmacist-profiled” just for having gray hair or being at Costco on a Friday night? Tell us!

What’s the most ridiculous or unexpected way someone has hinted you’re “too old” for something?

Do you think media representation of women over 60 is improving, or are we still stuck in the anti-aging aisle?

If you could rewrite the standards of beauty and relevance, what would your magazine cover say?