A birthday greeting from the past

Ten years ago, when I turned 55, I wrote a letter to Future Me. The website that hosted the letter promised to email it to me on my 65^th birthday. And indeed, there it was, in my inbox. Reading it back was a bittersweet experience. During that decade, many unexpectedly good things have happened, but there have been sad and shocking surprises as well. That’s life.

Here’s what Past Me said to Present Me:

I know it’s easy for me to say it now, but don’t spend too much time worrying about getting older. Unless the government woke up and realised how stupid it is to retire people who are still full of beans, you’ll be an Old Age Pensioner. But everyone knows that life begins at 65.

I think that was supposed to be tongue-in-cheek, but what the hell, why can’t life begin at 65? What I didn’t know at the time was that the government would start to move back the age at which you can collect your pension, so that won’t happen until I’m 66. So, I’m not an OAP just yet. I’m still full of beans and have no plans to stop working – too many beans to count (and a mortgage to pay for another 10 years).

Remember what Jane Fonda said in her inspiring TED talk in 2012 about life’s Third Act: as you age, the spirit grows, and you become more contented, more at ease with yourself and your past, more accepting of yourself and others, more authentic and more spiritual.

Yes, I can agree with all of that. Thank you, Ms Fonda. I am acutely aware of my age, and don’t enjoy the fact that I’m getting older, but I do feel more at ease with myself and my past, and I’m definitely more spiritual than I was 10 years ago.

Remember what a role model your mother is: laughing, joking, drinking, joining the University of the Third Age at 84, always curious about the world, always wanting to learn more. Follow her example.

As anyone who has read my blogs knows, my lovely mum died in 2020. But she’s definitely still a role model and inspiration – I’m always curious about the world and never want to stop learning. I want to be like her – 93 years old and still talking about ‘old people’.

I hope you will be as happy at 65 as you were at 55. You have a wonderful, caring, sensitive, husband who thinks you are beautiful. You have a small number of loyal friends, as well as many stimulating acquaintances and colleagues. You have a great family.

This was the hardest paragraph to read. Just a few months after I wrote this, the “wonderful, caring, sensitive husband who thought I was beautiful” announced he wanted to have children with a woman of his own age (he’s almost 22 years younger than me). Fortunately, my loyal friends, stimulating acquaintances, colleagues and family all rallied round and supported me through the grief of separation and divorce. Am I as happy as I was at 55? Maybe not in the same way, but I do feel content and grateful for the life I have.

You have just qualified as a coach and are about to do the work of your life. I hope you will be able to look back to this day and appreciate what you have achieved since then. I hope you will be showing up on a daily basis, sharing your wisdom and knowledge, and giving back to the world.

Ten years ago, I thought I was going to be a life coach for the rest of my life. It didn’t quite work out like that – but the work I do now is underpinned by all of the coaching skills I learnt at that time. And I’d like to think I do show up on a daily basis to share my wisdom and knowledge – just not in the way I imagined.

I hope you will have touched many lives and been a beacon of light for those in the darkness. I hope you feel you have contributed, that you still have meaning and purpose in your life. I hope you feel that there is still so much to do, and that you have plenty of time to do it.

If you make it to 65, I think it’s inevitable that you will have touched many lives. Beacon of light? I really hope so. I definitely have meaning and purpose in my life, and feel there’s still so much to do. Will I have plenty of time to do it? I hope so. But who knows?

Please know that you are loved, you have always been loved, that you will always be loved. And, yes, even though you didn’t have children, you really have made a difference.

Thankfully, despite not having had an intimate partner since my marriage ended, I do feel loved by family and friends. And yes, although I don’t have children, I do feel as if I’ve made a difference – not only to the people I’m close to, but also to the many people I’ve trained and coached to become better communicators, to the people whose stories I’ve helped to tell, and to the people I’ve helped to write great books. My love affair has been with language; words my children.

So now I have to decide if I’m going to write another email to Future Me, to be received on my 75^th birthday. Will I still be here to receive it? I hope so. Will there be plenty of pleasant surprises in the next decade? Hope so too. Will there be more sadness and grief? Of course, that’s life. And if I’m still here, will I be thinking: “That’s a life well lived…”? Definitely.

• I can recommend becoming your own cheerleader and champion. Write a letter to the future you at futureme.org (it’s free).