At a stage of life often referred to as the golden years—a time when many expect to slow down, retire, and fade quietly into the background—I find myself more energized and productive than ever. While this phase is often idealized as a time for rest and reflection or alternatively cast as the twilight years of decline and irrelevance, my reality is quite different.
Like many women in their 60s and beyond, I’m still working—and not just dabbling. In the past year alone, I’ve written and published three books, continued my full-time practice as a leadership coach and psychotherapist, built my own website, and managed our household finances. I spend my days helping others break free of limitations while still pushing the boundaries of my own potential.
And yet, despite all this, I’m frequently treated as though I’ve outlived my relevance. At the bank, financial advisers direct questions to my husband, even though I handle all the details of our finances. At social events, people ask him what he does, while I stand beside him, invisible. When I say I’m an author, I’m often met with a pause, then a polite, surprised nod, as though I’ve stepped outside the role I was quietly expected to play.
This isn’t just about me. It’s about a cultural blind spot that persists. Older women are often overlooked, underestimated, and dismissed, regardless of how vibrant, accomplished, or wise they may be.
This article is for the women, like me, who are seeking individuation – the fulfillment of one’s potential. Those women who are still showing up, still evolving, and still pursuing their dreams, as well as those who want to but haven’t quite figured out how.
In North America, something disturbing happens to women as they age. As we enter our 60s and 70s, the world quietly asks us to step aside. Without discussion, without permission, society hands us a well-worn script: become a caretaker, a grandmother, a volunteer. Be quiet, helpful, and invisible. We are supposed to immerse ourselves in family needs, community support, and dutiful retirement, without questioning whether this aligns with who we are or who we still want to become.
I say no.
There is no blueprint for individuation in later life. No guide for becoming more ourselves as we grow older. And so, too often, women fall back into the codependent roles we’ve been trained for since childhood: the helper, the fixer, the selfless one. We who fought so hard for a voice and an identity earlier in life are now encouraged to give it up all over again. To disappear gracefully. To become useful but voiceless.
I refuse.
From Identity to Invisibility: The Codependent Trap Revisited
Codependency isn’t just a relationship dynamic—it’s a cultural inheritance. Women, especially those raised in the postwar generations, were conditioned to define themselves by the needs of others. We were told that to be good was to be needed. And many of us internalized this. We became indispensable at work, in families, in communities. But in giving so much, we often lost touch with our own desires.
Now, in later life, that codependent script comes roaring back. Society tells us, again, to put others first. Retire to make room. Babysit the grandkids. Take care of aging parents. Be available, always. And if we resist? We are shamed—made to feel selfish, cold, or out of touch. Even worse, we are ignored, no longer invited to the party.
This is not individuation. It is regression.
The invisibility of older women is not natural. It’s manufactured by decades of cultural messaging that equates a woman’s value with youth, beauty, and service by a world that prefers us quiet and compliant. When women start to realize, at 60 or 70, that they still have dreams, ideas, creativity, ambition, or simply the desire to be free, society pushes back. We’re told it’s too late. That we had our time. That now, we are here to support others, not ourselves.
But I know this: it’s not too late. It’s never too late.
We Raised a Generation That Thinks We’re Brain Dead
Let’s be honest: we raised children, often with self-sacrificing love, who now look at us as though we’ve outlived our usefulness. Our adult children, beneficiaries of our emotional labor and ambition, now treat us like we’re outdated. They roll their eyes when we speak, dismiss our wisdom, and act as though we’re intellectually extinct.
We raised confident, independent children. But in doing so, we also passed on a culture that told them their mothers would always be there, asking nothing for themselves. We reinforced the myth that our aging would be graceful, quiet, and service-oriented.
We internalized the role. And now we must break it.
We are not here to martyr ourselves for the next generation’s convenience. We are not brain-dead—we are waking up.
We Are Not Past Our Prime—We Are Finally Free
Many women in their 60s and 70s are only now entering the most powerful, liberated chapter of their lives. The kids are grown, the career pressures are behind us, and we can finally hear our own voice again. But instead of encouraging this next evolution, society pressures us to retreat.
This is the double-bind of gendered ageism. Men in their 70s and 80s are respected as wise, experienced, and vital. But older women? We are expected to move to the margins. Even when we’ve led companies, raised families, authored books, created art—we are still reduced to roles like “nana” or “volunteer coordinator.” We are told to be proud of how we serve others, but we are not asked what we want.
Codependency teaches us not to ask that question either.
Individuating—claiming ourselves, for ourselves—is an act of rebellion in later life. It means choosing not to babysit if we’d rather travel. It means turning down the church committee so we can write that novel. It means wearing what we want, not what’s “age appropriate.” It means prioritizing our own joy without apology.
This isn’t selfish. This is sovereignty.
The Psychological Toll of Disappearing
Invisibility hurts. It shrinks the soul. Older women report feeling dismissed in stores, ignored in workplaces, and left out of conversations. This isn’t paranoia. It’s cultural bias. A society that centers youth cannot see the value in an older woman who no longer exists to serve.
The emotional impact is real. Depression and loneliness spike among older women, not because aging is inherently sad, but because being erased is. Being told we no longer matter, that our voice is outdated, that our desires are irrelevant, is demoralizing.
We are not tired—we are tired of being overlooked.
And too many of us internalize the message. We become our own jailers. We tell ourselves we’re too old to try something new. Too old to matter. Too old to take up space. But these are not truths—they are symptoms of lifelong codependent conditioning and cultural erasure.
We are not too old. We are just beginning.
The Economic Exploitation of “Helpful Women”
Let’s be clear: the expectations placed on older women are not just emotional—they are economic. When we are pushed out of the workforce in our 50s or 60s due to subtle ageism, or when we leave voluntarily to care for family members, we often pay a steep financial price. And society benefits from our unpaid labor.
Grandmother childcare? Free. Elder care for parents or spouses? Free. Volunteering? Free. This work sustains families, communities, and institutions—but it is unacknowledged, unsupported, and expected. Women perform the vast majority of this invisible labor, often at the expense of our own financial security.
This is a form of systemic codependency. A society that demands women always show up to meet its needs but refuses to invest in their freedom or future.
We are not here to fill every gap left by policy failure.
We have already given enough.
I Say No—And I Am Not Alone
More women are saying no. Saying yes to themselves. Starting businesses, creating art, running for office, moving to new countries, getting degrees, falling in love again—at 60, 70, 80. They are refusing to shrink. Refusing to be guilted into martyrdom. Refusing to disappear.
This is not selfishness. It is self-actualization.
It is time for a new blueprint. One that allows older women to individuate, to evolve, to be fully alive. Not just as helpers, but as whole human beings.
We must be bold. Be seen. Be heard. We must redefine what it means to be a thriving woman at 60, 70, or 80 + not by who we serve, but by how we live.
What We Need to Build a Future of Visibility and Choice
Let's come together in consciousness and action to build:
We are not here to hold space for everyone else’s life while putting our own on hold. We are not just grandmothers, caregivers, or “sweet little old ladies.” We are artists, thinkers, leaders, lovers, builders, and adventurers. We are the same women who fought for feminism in the 1960s and 1970s, and we continue to fight now.
So, to all who would ask us to sit down, shrink back, or go quietly into servitude, codependency, and retirement: No.
We will not go quietly.
We are still becoming. Still dreaming. Still full of life.
We are not invisible.
You just stopped looking beyond your own needs and biases.
We must stop waiting for permission to matter!
What if, instead of fading into roles that no longer fit, we gathered the courage to say: I am not done becoming.
Individuating means being on the path to achieving your potential at any age.
This stage of life is not the end of our story—it’s the beginning of a new chapter. One where we no longer define ourselves by what others need from us, but by what calls to us from within. Where we stop silencing our desires, downplaying our wisdom, and settling for invisibility. Where we remember that who we are matters—now more than ever.
This blog is for the women who refuse to disappear. Who are still growing, dreaming, and becoming. Individuation isn’t just for the young—it’s a powerful act at any age. We are not past our prime. We are stepping into it. This stage of life is not the end of our story—it’s the beginning of a new chapter. One where we no longer define ourselves by what others need from us, but by what calls to us from within. Where we stop silencing our desires, downplaying our wisdom, and settling for invisibility.