Aging is a Motherf**ker, But It's Also a Gift
II’m 55. Retired. The road to get here was long, bumpy, and damn near broke me in every way a person can break. But that story? I’ll save it for another day. Today I want to talk about aging — not the fluffy, inspirational kind, but the honest-to-God truth of what it feels like when your body starts turning into some kind of menopausal science experiment and your mind suddenly sees the world through an entirely different lens.
Let’s start with the obvious: aging is weird. Your face starts to sag 😒, your ass gives up 🍑⬇️, and your knees... get fat? Like, what the actual hell is knee fat and why is it here now? Your hair thins. Your skin loses elasticity. And your body starts doing this new thing where it just hurts for no reason at all. It's a party. 🎉
But here's the thing: underneath all that physical BS, something else happens. Something good. Something freeing.
My skin might be aging, but it’s clear. My hair is silver and wild, and I no longer waste time or money pretending it’s not. Botox? Meh. I used to care. I really did. Now? I care about my eyelashes and I’m not sure that’ll ever change — but that’s about it. My nervous system has finally exited fight-or-flight. I no longer carry the weight of everyone else's chaos. Things that used to feel urgent and important just… don't anymore.
Because aging does something wild to you: it puts death right there on the table. Not in a scary way, but in a clarifying one. You start to realize you don’t have infinite time. And that makes you wonder — what the hell are you still waiting for?
Want to travel? GO. ✈️
Want 10 dogs? DO IT. 🐶🐾
Want to start a podcast? START TALKING. 🎙️
Dammit, just do the thing. Stop waiting. People stay in soul-sucking jobs wayyyyy too long, convincing themselves they're essential. You are not. You’re a number in a system that will replace you before your goodbye cake is stale. Get out while you can. You CAN afford it — especially if you get creative.
And if you need advice? Here it is:
Stay in your lane. Live within your means. Hang up the vanity. Live with purpose and intention. Laugh — a lot 😂. And quit trying to keep up with the Joneses. They’re broke and exhausted anyway.
“Aging strips the bullshit. You stop performing, stop pretending, and start living. The skin sags, but the soul? She stands taller than ever.”
— Jessica Taylor
So let me tell you how I did it. How I live now, retired at 55, with no shame and a whole lot of gratitude.
Healthcare hacks? I got you. 💡
I use Direct Primary Care — it’s a monthly membership model where I pay my doc directly (no insurance games), and in return I get same-day appointments, texts, calls, longer visits, and actual care from someone who knows me. No waiting rooms. No runarounds.
I use a dental office with a membership plan, which means cleanings, exams, and x-rays are included, and I get major discounts on procedures. No insurance. Just a monthly fee and real access.
I use GoodRX for my meds. It’s basically a coupon app for prescriptions. No hoops. It just works. 💊
We have Life Flight insurance, because camping and road tripping means we could be far from help. For around $60/year, it covers emergency airlift services that would otherwise cost thousands. 🚁
And yes, we have catastrophic/emergency insurance too, just in case it all goes sideways.
This setup isn’t perfect, but it lets us live. And that’s the point. I write. I sew. I laser. I repurpose furniture. I make art. I podcast. I camp with Mike in our new trailer. 🛻⛺ I snuggle our dogs. I breathe. 🧘♀️
And last weekend? I could’ve died. Or at least been seriously messed up. A freak accident, inches from disaster. But I was spared. That kind of close call? It changes you. You get real intentional, real fast. God wasn’t done with me yet. And my angel? Still pulling shifts apparently. 😇
I’m not afraid of dying. But I am afraid of wasting the time I have left.
So much so, that I don’t chase down people for money anymore — even when they owe me thousands ($6,000) and duck out like cowards. (Yes, I see you. And I still have the receipts. 📲💵) I could go nuclear. I could call the city. I could go to court. But why? That stress isn’t mine anymore. Karma’s got that covered.
(But hey — if you still read this and do owe me six grand, maybe consider doing the right thing. Just sayin’.)
Here’s the moral of the story:
Aging isn’t always pretty. But it’s honest. And it’s liberating as hell if you let it be. Stop clinging to the bullshit. Stop pretending you’ll live forever. Stop letting fear or ego or society tell you how to spend your one wild and beautiful life. 🌻
You can afford to live. You just have to stop dying for everyone else.
—
Jessica
55, retired, unfinished, unbothered, and aging like the resilient badass I was always meant to be. 💪✨
