51 and Flourishing: 13 Habits That Make Midlife Better!

and the unhelpful “rules” I’ve learned to drop, plus the midlife essentials I use every day...

Oct 31, 2025

Ever since I chatted with playwright Bess Wohl, I’ve been thinking about the ruby ring she bought because she “finally felt grown up enough to make a piece of joy” for herself.

Her comment reminded me of the judgmental voice in my head that chimes in when I’m shopping for hair products, bossily insisting: “You can’t buy the expensive shampoo until you’re a proper grown-up!”

Reader, I’m 51, and objectively, a “proper grown-up:” I have a 20-year marriage, a house, and two teenage children. I have wrinkles, multiple pairs of reading glasses, and I take an impressive number of supplements each day. The time has come to indulge in expensive shampoo!

Happily, in other areas of my life, I’ve learned to ignore the voice in my head that arose out of youthful insecurities and to embrace the authority of my age.

Here are 13 habits I’m now grown-up enough to adopt—and some unhelpful “rules” I’ve learned to drop—that make my life much happier…

1. Ask for the table I want in restaurants…or a different room, in hotels. My children are mortified when I politely ask waitstaff if we could sit at a different table, and similarly when I ask if a better hotel room is available. But life’s too short to sit by a busy kitchen door when there are plenty of empty tables, or miss out on a room with a lovely view, just because it’s “cringey” to ask!

2. Be open about seeing a therapist. For years, I felt that it was shameful and a sign of weakness to need a therapist. But being honest about my struggles and the fact that I get help has deepened my relationships with family, friends, and you, my readers.

3. Wear a belt! Like the prohibition on buying expensive shampoo, I had the idea that only “grown-ups” wear belts with jeans. I’m now using my formerly empty belt loops and embracing the polished look of accessorizing well!

4. Say no without apology. It’s taken me half a century to learn that when I’m asked to do something, it’s perfectly acceptable to reply, “I am so sorry, but I can’t make it,” without a long-winded explanation. Sometimes, an explanation is warranted, for example, when the invitation is from a close friend or family member. However, most of the time, it’s sufficient to thank the invitee and simply decline.

5. Write lists for a living! For years, when I felt stymied and adrift in my search for a sense of purpose, I’d pull out my iPhone and review the many lists (parenting advice, outfit options, life lessons, entertaining ideas) I kept in it. I had the feeling that somewhere, hidden in one of those lists, was the answer to the question of my career direction. Turns out: writing lists, as I do every week in this newsletter, is a job, and doing it makes me happier than I’ve ever been. My purpose was hidden in plain sight.

6. Stop using expensive face creams. In the past, although I didn't allow myself to buy expensive shampoo, I occasionally dabbled in using fancy skin products. But to my great disappointment, they’ve never made a noticeable difference to my skin. On top of that, my highly sought-after New York City dermatologist consistently recommends drugstore brands like Cetaphil and Neutrogena.

7. Understand that my parents were doing the best they could. I had a difficult childhood that caused emotional issues that have taken a lot of distance, time, and therapy to address. I spent many years feeling angry and resentful toward my parents. I refused to forgive them for their faults. Now, with the benefit of almost twenty years of parenting, a decade of consistent therapy, and half a century of life experiences, I see my parents more clearly. I know they were damaged by their own families and struggled with insecurities and financial and other pressures that weren’t obvious to me as a child. I feel enormously grateful that I’ve been able to process my pain and, while I’m by no means a perfect parent, I’m proud that I have not continued the cycle of generational trauma in my own family.

8. Get over FOMO. At 51, I’ve stopped counting the number of friends I have or invitations I receive. Hearing about a glamorous party I wasn’t invited to no longer fills me with jealous yearning—instead, I’m relieved I didn’t have to stay out late! I’m focused on nurturing relationships with the people I care about and who care about me, including my husband, children, and close friends: making time to be together without distractions, celebrating milestones, and taking trips we’ve fantasized about.

9. Play to win…and enjoy it! I’ve been playing tennis since I was 12, but when I was young and self-conscious, I didn’t want to be seen as “trying too hard.” Consequently, I didn’t fulfil my athletic potential. These days, I know that I’m the only one keeping score of the points I win and lose, and I try my hardest to play my best. It feels so much better to honestly acknowledge my disappointment when I lose, and my pride when I win.

10. Stay home on a Saturday night (Friday night, too). I had long internalized the idea that weekend nights were for going out—and that if I didn’t have plans, there was something deeply wrong with me. Turns out, any night can be for going out, and any night can be for staying home—and a good night’s sleep is priceless!

11. Admit when I don’t know something. In my twenties, I’d spend large portions of meetings squirming while wishing I were invisible when topics came up that I didn’t understand. It felt unthinkably dangerous to admit I didn’t know something or ask for an explanation. I now understand the value of curiosity (and the dangers of close-mindedness), and that if I have a question, it’s likely someone else does, too.

12. Accept the way I look. Oh, how I longed for longer, thinner legs, thicker hair, and smaller ears for most of my life! I spent hours as a teenager assessing myself in the mirror, comparing my face and body to models in magazines, and much of my adult life refusing to show my knees, mortified by their scars. These days, as I deal with the reality of 50 years of wear and tear on my body, I’m just glad to have hair and working knees!

13. Give up things that aren’t for me. It wasn’t until my late thirties that I openly admitted how much I disliked skiing and stopped trying to do it. Surrounded by people who revered the sport, I felt ashamed of my lack of enjoyment and talent. Acknowledging that skiing isn’t for me was a surprisingly freeing decision and opened the door to some other personal truths I was previously embarrassed by: I don’t like working for other people; I don’t like staying up late; and I don’t value variety in my diet!