How do we want to be when involved with the healthcare system, whether it be a doctor's visit, a hospital stay, surgery, or figuring out insurance claims?

It’s easy to focus on the external factors—the doctors, the diagnoses, and the decisions being made. But over time, we might notice that something else plays an important role: how we relate to ourselves in general, and how it applies in those situations.

Moments of uncertainty, dependency, or feeling overlooked can quietly intensify stress and erode our sense of control. Yet it’s often our relationship with ourselves—how we prepare, respond, and remain grounded—that determines whether we move through them with confusion and fear or with clarity and dignity.

My plan has been to find other ways - and that’s worked well so far, but what if my best attempts aren’t enough and I must use those services? Maybe, it would be wise to prepare for such an eventuality.

Experts warn to watch for red flags such as feeling ignored, interrupted, or rushed, having our concerns dismissed, sensing a lack of empathy; and encountering unprofessionalism or refusals to explain treatment options.

What I’m Finding:

• In some cases, those worries are valid, particularly when a lack of empathy and dismissing of concerns are involved.

• However, I always thought “they” knew best and didn’t question their decisions. I plan to be much better prepared now.

Experts suggest that we prepare for a doctor's appointment or hospital stay by bringing a list of medications, medical records, insurance cards, and a prioritized list of questions.

What I’m Finding:

• I’m realizing how much self-induced stress I’ve created regarding such circumstances. I haven’t taken the time and energy to create the lists, document and research concerns, or establish a relationship with a primary care physician.

• When in fact, completing those activities just might reduce the stress, support me in being as independent as possible for as long as possible, and help me preserve my dignity in settings where it could get lost.

Experts explain that the healthcare system will always have complexities, and there will be moments when we feel uncertain, dependent, or out of our depth. These experiences are real and can’t be entirely avoided. But they don’t have to define us either.

What I’m Finding:

• If I’m well-prepared and have a working relationship with a doctor, I might be more comfortable as a patient.

• However, I still question whether or not the professional would have time for such a relationship or if I can trust them completely.

• Listening to my body and intuition typically could add important information.

• Using positive self-talk and encouraging rather than scaring myself would also be helpful.

The way we relate to ourselves—how we prepare, how we respond, and how we remain grounded—can help us move through such situations with greater clarity and a steadier sense of who we are. In that sense, navigating healthcare is not only about managing the system, but about maintaining our dignity and exercising our agency within it.

Please let your friends and family know about the newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, forward this email and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, widow, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for over five years and recently published the book, The Insider’s Guide to Aging Well - Longevity Through the Eyes of an 87-Year Old.

Before my husband died, being a burden to others or no longer being needed never occurred to me. We were a team - solved problems, played, and made decisions together. Once I was on my own, those concerns quickly rose to the surface.

Fear of dependency and irrelevance is a deeply rooted anxiety stemming from a threat to a person’s sense of self-worth, purpose, and autonomy. It’s often tied to major life transitions, such as aging, career changes, shifts in family dynamics, and the death of a spouse or partner. Furthermore, childhood experiences and societal pressures typically play a role.

Fear of dependency - Also known as “counter-dependency,” this fear includes resisting the need to rely on others, even when it makes sense to do so. The fear is that we’ll become a burden.

It’s said that when a person grows up with overbearing parents or in an environment where their needs are not met, they may come to believe it’s not safe to trust.

What I’m Finding:

• My parents were micromanagers; my physical needs were well met, my emotional ones not as much. Trust has been a nagging issue for a long time, but especially since being on my own.

Professionals say that societies emphasizing self-reliance may view seeking help as a sign of weakness. Older adults may perceive their lives as being less valuable, putting them at risk for depression and social isolation.

What I’m Finding:

• I didn’t want my children to go through what we did as my husband struggled with dementia and COVID. I was a psychologist, and thought I could handle it by myself. Wrong!

• I was not sufficiently prepared, and in hindsight, I’d handle things differently - be more assertive, ask more questions, and take better care of myself.

• That experience became the basis for the newsletter - a place for me to share what I’d learned with others.

They further claim those fears can lead to low self-esteem, anxiety, and depression, distorting a person’s sense of value.

What I’m Finding:

• Before my husband’s death, I had confidence - but the confidence was in us as a team, and the knowledge he had my back. I still haven’t developed that level of confidence in myself - yet.

Fear of irrelevance - often involves feeling undervalued and insignificant, and concerns that our presence or skills no longer matter, particularly as older adults. One remedy may be doing more of what we enjoy and do best.

Experts identify three possible reasons.

• Aging: As people age, declining health and societal ageism may contribute, particularly in Western cultures that tend to revere youth.

• The workplace: The rapid pace of technological change, especially with the rise of automation and artificial intelligence, is a significant source of anxiety for workers who fear their skills will become obsolete.

• Changes in life roles: Major life transitions, such as retirement or children leaving home, often trigger this fear because our sense of identity can be deeply tied to one’s former role.

What I’m Finding:

• My fears seem to be driven by aging and changing life roles.

• We were fortunate to live next door to our grandsons for nine years. We saw them daily and were involved in their lives. Our older grandson lived with us while he was in college. They’re now grown men with families and careers; who no longer live next door or visit as often. I’m surprised at how much I miss them and those special times.

Those in the know suggest that older adults stay engaged and flexible in their lives by learning new skills and embracing change.

What I’m Finding:

• Being flexible and embracing change is much easier said than done. Many long-held habits and beliefs are firmly entrenched.

Professionals suggest focusing on contributions beyond traditional work after retirement. Volunteering, hobbies, or mentoring can provide a continued sense of meaning.

What I’m Finding:

• A key seems to be having a sense of meaning - a reason to get up in the morning. Volunteering and hobbies don’t do that for me as much as mentoring does.

Furthermore, they suggest cultivating healthy relationships and engaging in community activities to combat isolation and foster a sense of belonging. Learning to ask trusted friends and family for help can reduce the fear of being a burden.

What I’m finding:

• I get together regularly with family and friends, face-to-face and online, but also cherish my alone time.

• Permitting myself to ask for help remains a challenge. I’ve always been the giver - it’s difficult to ask for help.

Finally experts encourage older adults to treat themselves with kindness and understanding - recognizing that everyone experiences struggles may help shift our negative self-talk.

What I’m Finding:

• Treating myself as if I were my best friend remains a work in progress.

Something to think about! Where in our lives do we still feel useful, connected, or valued?

I would love it if you could share the Aging Well newsletter with others. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, please forward this email to a friend and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on SubStack for five years and recently published the book, An Insider’s Guide to Aging - Longevity Through the Eyes of an 87-Year-old.

After my husband died, the need to do things perfectly increased dramatically, and my expectations of what I planned to manage were overwhelming - basically, my goal was to continue what we were doing by myself - a goal that was unrealistic and led to a great deal of negative self-talk. My body was also naturally aging, and the changes were noticeable, which added to the pressure I put on myself.

Experts say that self-induced stress occurs when internal factors like perfectionism, worry, and unrealistic expectations, lead to mental and physical strain - that’s in addition to the external stressors that regularly occur.

Self-imposed stress is often caused by how we interpret situations, and frequently results in anxiety, fatigue, and chronic health issues like high blood pressure. Conversely, chronic health issues and high blood pressure can cause mental and emotional stress.

Such pressure can be exacerbated by inadequate sleep, poor diet, and procrastination, which tend to increase our emotional reactivity.

What I’m finding:

• Today, my exercise routine is modified. I used to run 5K races and climb hills. Now I walk daily on flat ground - 3.5 miles last weekend, though, with ease - and climb stairs.

• My goal is to eat healthy meals and drink plenty of water, but we know how our best-laid plans can go astray.

• Night sweats disrupt a good night’s sleep, as do trips to the bathroom, worry, and a cat who wants to snuggle incredibly close - all night.

• I don’t procrastinate as much because I’ve found that getting bothersome tasks out of the way relieves anxiety.

Experts say that proactive habits for managing self-induced stress include mindfulness meditation, journaling, and setting healthy boundaries, such as limiting screen time and saying "no" to nonessential tasks. Other effective habits include prioritizing tasks to avoid feeling overwhelmed, fostering social connections, and practicing gratitude daily to shift focus away from stressors.

What I’m finding:

• I journal, practice Qigong (which includes mindfulness, exercise, and breathing), and walk.

• I listen to the news less and participate minimally on social media; instead, I watch YouTube landscape and music videos - oh and baseball games in season.

• I’m eternally grateful for what I have and for everyone who supports me.

• At times, I’m overwhelmed by the demands of managing life by myself.

Experts say that reducing self-induced stress involves managing expectations, reframing negative thoughts, and setting healthy boundaries. Key strategies include practicing self-compassion, learning to say "no" to avoid overload, prioritizing tasks, and limiting social media.

What I’m finding:

• Increased stomach distress and headaches seem to indicate that my health is being affected - and I’m not doing enough to manage it.

• There are improvements - some self-compassion, saying no a bit more, and focusing on being my coach rather than my critic - yet, there is room for continued improvement.

My stress seems to boil down to three factors: an unrealistic need to do things perfectly, worry about everything, and negative self-talk. If I want to experience overall well-being and happiness at my age, I’d be smart to keep on finding more powerful management tools.

My next steps include:

• Increased self-compassion - reminding myself of what I’ve accomplished during the last ten years.

• I’d say stop the negative self-talk, but that’s unrealistic; maybe a better option is using positive self-talk more often. Not trying to change the old habit, but creating a strong new one.

• I’ve read about energy being the new currency, so I’m choosing to spend mine wisely.

• Honoring the worries, doing what I can about them, and letting them go as the Serenity Prayer suggests.

My question for you is this: How much do you stress yourself?

I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible. Above all, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, feel free to forward this email to a friend or family member and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Thank you for being part of the Aging Well community.

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, widow, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and writer. She has written articles for Substack for the past five years and recently published a book, The Insider’s Guide to Aging Well Through the Eyes of an 87-year-old.

Over time, readers asked whether these reflections might someday be gathered into a book. I’m writing today to let everyone know they can and are.

You inspired me to write The Insider’s Guide to Aging Well: Longevity Through the Eyes of an 87-Year-Old. I’m deeply appreciative of your readership, reflections, and willingness to engage thoughtfully with the topics.

The Insider’s Guide to Aging Well brings together many of the ideas and themes we’ve discussed. It’s not separate from the newsletter, which is my primary focus, but an extension of it—a way to collect the articles in one place for those of you who may find that format more useful.

This link takes you to the book on Amazon. All proceeds will be donated to the Alzheimer’s Association in my husband’s name.

Learn more about the book

In the last two articles, we’ve touched on topics that seem incredibly important - particularly if we want to enjoy overall well-being and happiness in our older years. I’m referring to the relationship we have with ourselves and letting go of the person we were to make room for the person we can and want to be now.

As a child, I was taught that others knew best about everything, from what clothes I should wear to what decisions I should make. That belief influenced me for years in many ways. So I’d ask their opinion, accede to their wishes, and ignore my intuition more often than not.

However, I’m finding that they - professionals, advertisers, and well-meaning family and friends - may not know what’s best for me after all. They don’t know my body, my values, and my intentions as I do.

I’ve also been surprised by the sadness I’m feeling about activities, long-held habits, and special relationships that are no longer there. So, I’m experimenting with new ways of being based on what is true for me now.

One question we might want to ask ourselves to begin with is: How has my relationship with myself changed as I’ve grown older?

Leave a comment

A few guidelines

• Comments are friendly and supportive.

• I reserve the right to delete posts if necessary.

• I’m no longer a licensed counselor nor am I a medical professional, so I offer no advice, only thoughts based on my experience.

Let’s get started, and welcome!

After my husband died, I wrote about letting go of life as a married woman. Practically, I’ve been successful; emotionally, not so much, given our shared 70-year history and intertwined lives.

It appears there is a similar - maybe larger - challenge to deal with - one I hadn’t considered, but one that is causing anguish lately. As the aging process marches on - despite my best efforts to slow it down - I’m having to let go of who I was and what I could do, to embrace what I can do, rather than continuing to force myself to do things that are now stressful.

For example, I can’t and don’t care to be an online adjunct psychology professor anymore, but I can write a newsletter about aging well, which I love. The same expertise and skills are required; they’re just applied differently.

I suppose that challenge begins with defining what’s true for me today, and acknowledging four important facts.

1. I'd best take excellent care of the body I live in - even more so now.

2. My husband was my rock - he always had my back. Initially, my goal was to be my own rock, but that doesn’t seem possible. I can’t replicate what he provided in terms of safety, love, and support. However, maybe I can advocate for myself to the best of my ability, build a support team, and let them help when needed.

3. I’ve spent a lot of time, too much, truthfully, being angry and frustrated at what my body can no longer do and pushing myself to do things I don’t want to do.

4. The past can provide wonderful memories and lessons that support me now and the woman I’m becoming. The losses remain; there’s no way around it, but maybe the key is to use them as a catalyst for something new.

Experts say the solution is not to rage against the changes, but to relax into them. Acknowledge that we’ve entered a new phase of life, one that’s going to be different from the way we lived before, and look at it as an opportunity for a new adventure.

What I’m finding:

• Raging certainly hasn’t worked, nor has forcing myself to do things I don’t want to do - they only create more stress.

• I have values, beliefs, and experiences that help me formulate something new, but I also have long-held beliefs and habits that hold me back.

• Maybe the key is in adjusting - if it’s something I really want to do - doing it in a way that meets my body’s and my heart’s needs. Case in point: I’d been doing the acrylic landscape paintings for several years, but my hands aren’t as steady, and painting was no longer fun. However, I can use colored pencils much more easily and apply my art skills in a new, challenging, and interesting way.

Experts say that, as an older adult, using the past to build a new future involves a proactive process of repurposing—shifting from a career-focused identity to one based on legacy, passion, and mentorship. This transition may enhance mental health, foster a sense of meaning, and allow us to filter our most valuable life lessons for future generations.

What I’m finding:

• This information rings true for me, and it’s what the newsletter is all about.

• I discovered the term "sage-ing," a way of living in the second half of our lives that can be fulfilling and beneficial.

  • It suggests living our later years creatively and with purpose, harvesting the accumulated wisdom of earlier years, and sharing it with others.

  • Enriching our lives as we expand our own. Sage-ing can empower us to add years to our lives and life to our years.

  • I’m also finding that hobbies, per se, don’t entirely meet that need for me. However, if I switch from acrylic painting to colored-pencil art and send them to friends or include them in the newsletter articles, it does.

Experts say that learning how to see our successes and apply them going forward is priceless. Seeing what you might not have done so well, and what you can do differently in the future, is also priceless. Living in the past doesn’t create an adaptable life. Using the past to help create the future does.

What I’m finding:

• Maybe if I apply my qualities and the lessons I’ve learned in the past to my future, I can create a fulfilling quality of life no matter my age.

A question we might want to ask ourselves is this: What aspects of who we were are we still holding on to—and do they or can they still fit who we are now?

I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible. Above all, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, feel free to forward this email to a friend or family member and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Thank you for being part of the Aging Well community.

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, widow, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and writer. She has written articles for Substack for the past five years and has just published a book, The Insider’s Guide to Aging Well Through the Eyes of an 87-Year-Old, which is available on Amazon.

It’s becoming increasingly clear that a relationship I’ve neglected over the years is the one with myself. I know why: wanting to be liked, making friends, and succeeding in the world were more important.

Putting others first worked for a very long time. However, it seems like my ‘giving bucket’ has run dry, and I’m tired. My body and my heart are now asking, “What about me?”

Experts say the relationship we have with ourselves is the foundation of mental well-being, influencing how we interact with others and handle life. It requires understanding our emotions and using positive self-talk to build resilience and self-worth.

They also say that building this relationship involves practicing self-care, setting boundaries, acknowledging emotions, and spending time alone. Important habits include journaling, daily exercise, pursuing personal hobbies, and speaking kindly to ourselves to foster self-trust. These habits should be part of a non-negotiable, proactive relationship and a lifelong journey, rather than a one-time task; a continuous process of self-discovery, compassion, and acceptance.

What I’m finding:

• While journaling, daily exercise, and personal hobbies are helpful, what matters most now seems to be time alone, being kinder to myself, and fostering self-trust.

• The fact that our bodies’ needs and desires change as we age was something I hadn’t considered.

Experts claim that building a relationship with ourselves in older adulthood, especially if we’ve not done so already, is a journey toward planned action, self-compassion, and curiosity that could transform solitude into a fulfilling, independent life.

What I’m finding:

• This task seems formidable. However, there are steps I can take.

• I enjoy the solitude, which surprises me.

• One important aspect for me is permitting myself to let go of the person I was and to focus on the person I am now. More about that next week.

Experts explain that building a relationship with ourselves as older adults involves moving from seeking others’ approval to listening to our own needs, emotions, and values.

What I’m finding:

• I’m in a huge self-discovery phase right now - figuring out who I am and can be at this age.

• However, self-compassion has been pretty much ignored in the process.

• I continue to listen to what others say, but I’m also listening more closely to my body, my values, and my emotions. Listening to them entails a real effort to trust myself more.

They note that after a lifetime of taking care of others—a pattern often referred to as chronic people-pleasing—we should take intentional steps to reconnect with our own needs and identity—both of which may have changed over time. This is not about being selfish, but about moving from "selfless" to "self-full."

What I’m finding:

• I’ve spent most of my life helping others, and it’s somewhat painful to let that go and reconnect with my needs and identity now.

• However, my plan is to gently incorporate the following practices.

  • Without judging, notice when I ignore myself to please others, say “yes” when I want to say “no,” or hide my honest feelings to keep the peace.

  • Decide what I’m willing to do and what I'm not. The word “no” can be a complete sentence requiring no apology or lengthy explanation.

  • Set aside specific times for activities that rejuvenate: reading, playing the piano, or doing art.

  • Reflect on what truly matters to me—not what others expect. This helps me set a long-term vision and prevents my days from feeling meaningless.

  • Begin asserting myself by saying no to small requests and expressing my opinion more freely.

A shift in our relationship with ourselves may lead to a better quality of life as we age, and it seems to be another piece of the aging well puzzle. As we change, the quality of our lives changes—and sometimes that requires us to let go of earlier versions.

A question we might want to ask ourselves is: How am I relating to myself at this stage of my life?

Please let your friends and family know about the newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, forward this email and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for five years and is currently publishing a book based on the articles.

I’m not denying the reality of illness or the need for medical care, but I do want to be an advocate for myself, my beliefs, and my values in the process.

My most recent medical experiences were outpatient eye surgeries about six years ago; they were successful and went smoothly. My last hospitalization was in the 1960s, when my children were born, and I’ve visited the emergency room three times since then: for a rabies shot, a broken wrist, and a deep cut requiring stitches. I currently take no prescription drugs.

I go to the doctor when necessary - probably not often enough, some would argue. My intention is never to be a patient. Several loved ones were, and I saw how that went.

It’s true that having a primary care physician can provide essential, personalized healthcare by focusing on prevention, early disease detection, and the management of chronic conditions.

Similarly, a hospital can provide immediate, specialized, and life-saving care for severe injuries, critical illnesses, and emergencies. It ensures access to advanced diagnostics, 24/7 care, and the support needed for acute conditions.

It’s also true that, despite my best efforts, I may need a doctor or hospital someday. If or when that time comes, I want to advocate for myself as much as possible.

Experts say patients want to be heard, validated, and treated with dignity. They want warmth, compassion, effective communication, and social connection to help cope with fear, pain, and uncertainty during treatment.

What I’m Finding:

• While some readers have wonderful relationships with their doctors and positive experiences with the system, that has not been my experience for the most part.

• However, I haven’t put much effort into finding the right care provider either.

Experts say that to make sound choices, we should pause, gather information from trusted sources, and involve a support system.

What I’m Finding:

• In several cases, particularly as a caregiver, pauses were not offered. A decision was required in the moment, or they made the decision.

Experts suggest that if we find ourselves feeling pressured, we should take time to think and reflect before making a final decision.

What I’m Finding:

• I was rarely given time to make a decision, but I also didn’t know I could ask for it.

Experts advise us to talk with friends, family, or a professional about our fears to prevent them from increasing stress.

What I’m finding:

• I don’t want to burden family members with what I consider to be my problem. Maybe that thinking needs reassessing.

We can also consider these guidelines:

Before and During Appointments

• Write down our top concerns, detailed symptoms, and questions.

• Bring a trusted person along to help remember the information, or record the appointment for later review.

• Document daily symptoms, medications, and diet, which makes it easier for a doctor to understand our issues clearly.

• Keep a medication list that includes prescriptions, over-the-counter drugs, and supplements to prevent dangerous interactions.

Communication Strategies

• Use “I” statements to express our concerns, such as: “I’m worried that this medication is causing new side effects.”

• If we feel unheard, we can say, “I’m uncomfortable with this plan.”

• If we don’t understand a term or plan, we can ask, “Would you explain what that means?”

• Repeat what the doctor says to ensure we’ve heard correctly.

In the Hospital

• Hospitals have staff who can help us navigate care and resolve issues. Know who they are and what resources they offer.

• As patients, we have the right to informed consent, to refuse treatment, and to expect privacy.

• We can confirm the name and purpose of a medication, procedure, or test beforehand, and ensure we understand follow-up instructions, including medication dosing.

Feeling Unheard or Dismissed

• If we’re uncomfortable with a diagnosis or treatment plan, or consistently feel rushed or dismissed, we can seek other medical opinions, though that might involve out-of-pocket costs.

• If a doctor refuses to run a test or provide requested treatment, we can ask them to document their reasoning in our medical record.

Key Phrases for Self-Advocacy

• I know my body, and this is not normal for me.

• I want to explore other options.

• Would you help me understand why this test is necessary?

Many of us, as older adults, will need to visit a doctor or go to the hospital at some point, or we may have loved ones who do. There are steps we can take to support and advocate for ourselves and them.

A wise question to be considering is: “How can I be my advocate in medical settings?”

I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over my years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible. More than anything, I want to continue to expand our community of readers.

So please forward this email to a friend and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Thank you for being part of the Aging Well community.

If you want to contribute to my work, consider donating to the Alzheimer’s Association. This link takes you to their website. The choice is yours.

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for over five years and is in the process of having a book published based on the articles.

I have no reason to go to the doctor or to the hospital right now, and I’m doing my best to keep it that way. My concerns are that they won’t know me well enough to make the correct diagnosis in a short appointment, or that I’ll get trapped in the medical system, referred from doctor to doctor, and required to take unnecessary tests. All of which has occurred in the past, so even the possibility causes anxiety.

However, there might be a time when I need medical care, and I’m finding that taking care of my emotions is a must if or when it happens.

People rarely think about their feelings when they give up control to a system, wait weeks for appointments, are defined by a chart or diagnosis, and subtly shift from being a person to being a patient. So maybe now’s a good time to begin.

Key emotional drivers and impacts include:

• Fear and anxiety tend to play a role in serious medical issues. Those emotions can lead us to choose options that provide immediate emotional relief or cause us to refuse necessary tests.

• Feelings of helplessness can create a desire to regain control and impact treatment decisions.

• Negative emotions often lead to a focus on negative outcomes and may make it harder to understand medical information, potentially leading to poorer decisions.

• Healthcare providers have emotions, too—biases, sympathy, or negative reactions to patients —that may influence their clinical judgment and decision-making.

• Second opinions can be important for reducing emotional strain and helping people move from anxiety to feeling informed and confident in their choices.

Recognizing emotional factors is crucial for effective care; decisions without reference to them can be seen as “mechanistic and inferior.” Furthermore, when we need medical assistance, we’re better served by acknowledging and accepting our feelings rather than suppressing them.

So, the question becomes, how can we support ourselves emotionally if we find ourselves in that situation?

Experts say that the emotional toll of being a patient can be traumatic, characterized by a mix of anxiety, depression, fear, frustration, and isolation. They often endure significant, long-term stress, which may lead to post-traumatic stress or feelings of helplessness.

What I’m Finding:

• Just the idea of going to the doctor causes concern. I look for every home and over-the-counter remedy first. However, if need be, I would.

Experts claim that managing emotions while in the hospital or under a doctor’s care involves deep breathing and mindfulness, maintaining routines, journaling, and engaging in light, distracting activities.

What I’m Finding:

• I’m not good at deep breathing, but I practice Qigong, which includes exercise, breathing, and mindfulness. I also maintain routines, journal daily, and have hobbies.

• Honoring my feelings is one of my strategies, but it’s often easier said than done.

Experts note that emotions are typically involved with medical care and that fear, sadness, and anxiety can affect patient decision-making and outcomes. Empathetic communication and “emotional fit” between providers and patients improve treatment adherence, while failure to address emotions often leads to patient distrust and higher stress.

What I’m Finding:

• I’ve rarely found an emotional fit in a doctor’s office or in a hospital setting. Appointments were short, the doctor knew best, and my emotions were never considered either as a patient or a caregiver.

• Past experience has led me to distrust the medical system in general.

Experts advise that we should accept it’s normal to feel overwhelmed, sad, or scared, and avoid judging our reactions.

What I’m Finding:

• I don’t judge my reactions or feelings, but I certainly know they exist, and they definitely play a role in my decisions.

Experts warn that we should be mindful of our feelings and how they might affect our decision-making. The goal is to balance rational information with emotional needs.

What I’m finding:

• Medical personnel have emotions that affect their decisions. That’s why I’d want to know their beliefs regarding certain key issues. Do they agree with the mind-body connection? Are they willing to listen to my thoughts and ideas?

Experts suggest we focus on what we can control, such as learning about the condition and engaging in the decision-making process.

What I’m Finding:

• Today, I’d do much more of that as needed.

Experts note that we can manage our emotions as patients by practicing deep breathing, mindfulness, and grounding techniques to stay present. They suggest we stay connected with loved ones for support, maintain a sense of control by asking questions, and use distractions like reading or music.

What I’m finding:

We can also do the following:

• Work on healing our bodies through visualizations and other practical interventions as we prepare for doctor visits, surgery, or hospital stays.

• Know and understand the reasons for being a patient so we can ask relevant questions and not take what they say at face value.

• Join a support group and listen for fresh ideas.

• Focus on what we can do to support our health.

Being a patient can subtly reshape how we see ourselves. Appointments, diagnoses, and treatments begin to define our days and, at times, our identity. Yet beneath the medical chart, the self remains — the thinking, feeling person who is still making choices about how to live.

You can read Part 2 of this series, “How To Advocate for Yourself as You Age Well,” next week.

Please let your friends and family know about the newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, forward this email and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for five years and is currently publishing a book based on the articles.

I was determined to be independent. I did not want our family to go through what we’d been through as my husband struggled with dementia and died of COVID ever again.

I’ve given it my best effort. Yet, I’m finding that in truth, no man - or woman in my case - is an island as John Donne, the poet, suggests.

For some reason, it’s okay to pay for outside services like a house cleaner and a financial planner, but it’s not okay to ask family members for help, which I’m having to do more often - even though they repeatedly say and show they’re willing to do so.

Maybe we shouldn’t be asking the question “How can I do this?” but rather asking, “What kind of support preserves my self-respect and allows me to feel good about myself during this stage in my life?”

Experts say that as older adults, we face significant challenges to maintaining independence, primarily because of declining physical mobility, chronic health conditions, and cognitive impairment.

• What I’m finding:

  • My physical mobility is pretty good. I walked five miles with ease last week at the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, which included several flights of stairs.

  • There are no chronic health conditions, and I take no prescription medications.

  • My cognitive functioning is solid. I’m a lifelong learner, and writing weekly articles for this newsletter helps keep me sharp.

Experts say key issues as we age include managing daily tasks, navigating unsafe home environments, financial constraints, social isolation, and loss of transportation.

• What I’m finding:

  • I fix three meals every day - some better than others - keep the house clean with the help of a once-a-month house cleaner, have no financial concerns, and get together regularly with friends and family.

  • I no longer drive, but can still walk to most services -or there is always DoorDash and Amazon. My daughter offered to be my taxi, and I can take an Uber if needed.

Even so, I’m not as independent or as self-sufficient as I’d like, and that may worsen in the coming years.

Self-sufficiency is the notion that we can or should meet all our needs independently, without relying on others. It’s probably a false premise because human survival depends on community, shared resources, and specialization, which make complete independence impossible and can cause burnout.

A better word might be autonomy, which is defined as the internal capacity to make choices aligned with our values and desires, which, in turn, allows us to maintain dignity and receive support.

Perhaps, an even better term is interdependence - a deliberate decision to embrace mutual reliance, balancing individual autonomy with collaboration to create greater value than working alone. It involves recognizing the impact of our actions on others, fostering trust, and moving beyond isolated self-reliance to creating shared, sustainable success.

So, maybe our independence isn’t really lost as life changes—maybe it just evolves. The question isn’t whether we remain as independent as we were, but whether we can redefine it in a way that preserves our inherent sense of worth.

This way of thinking involves allowing others to help, making adjustments, and carefully choosing where to invest our energy. It doesn’t diminish who we are, but it does reflect a different form of independence.

Please let your friends and family know about the newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, forward this email and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for five years and is currently publishing a book based on the articles.

I’m an older woman - some would say really old - I just renewed the lease on my lovely apartment, I have two wonderful cats, no financial concerns, and minor health issues. My career is writing. I have numerous hobbies, and family and friends support me. Life is good. At the same time, I struggle with anger, anxiety, doubt, frustration, and deep sadness, for seemingly no apparent reason.

In recent articles, I discussed how aging is often emotionally harder than we expect. Readers confirmed that point: many of us anticipate and accept the physical changes we experience as we grow older, but we’re less aware of their emotional impact.

As it turns out, aging well is not simply a matter of staying positive or managing medical care. It also requires deliberately adjusting to losses, renegotiating identity, and choosing how to respond to change.

Losses in aging tend to accumulate, often occurring one after another before previous ones are completely processed. I’m also finding that rather than a single loss, they come in clusters.

I was somewhat prepared for my husband’s death on a practical level. However, I wasn’t prepared for the secondary losses of identity, confidence, friendships, and everyday life without him, or for the feelings that came with them.

Experts suggest that we tackle loneliness by spending time with family and friends, or joining community-based organizations such as churches, senior centers, or adult education classes.

What I’m finding:

• I get together with family and friends, but I cherish my alone time and feel most safe at home.

• I’ve gone to the Senior Center and attended Adult Education Classes, but not anymore. Playing cards, making puzzles, or line dancing aren’t for me. I’ve taken more classes than I can count over the years, but now I can learn anything I want at home, thanks to the Internet and YouTube.

Experts say that walking or doing yoga to reduce anxiety and improve sleep helps regulate emotions and makes us feel good.

What I’m finding:

• I exercise daily, but less vigorously than before because my knees complain, which causes anxiety when they hurt and frustration because I can’t do more.

• My sleep is interrupted most nights with trips to the bathroom, hot flashes, and a cat who insists on sleeping as close as possible. A couple of weeks ago, it was interrupted by an earthquake - that’s California for you.

Experts explain that practicing deep-breathing exercises, meditation, or journaling can help us manage stress and reduce excessive worrying.

What I’m finding:

• I haven’t been successful with deep breathing or meditation, but I practice Qigong, which combines exercise, breathing, and mindfulness. I also journal daily - worries still tend to sneak in.

Experts tell us to structure the day with consistent habits, such as hobbies, volunteering, or caregiving, something that provides a sense of purpose.

What I’m finding:

• I have several hobbies, and writing the newsletter provides a sense of purpose, but the deep sadness of a special someone’s absence remains.

Experts advise us to focus on proactive problem-solving, like setting daily intentions or viewing emotional situations objectively.

• What I’m finding:

  • I do set daily intentions and focus on solutions, but anger, fear, and sorrow linger.

  • As for viewing emotional situations objectively, I find that’s easier said than done. Unexpected but valid feelings arise at inopportune times, and they deserve to be honored.

Aging well is not accidental. It requires attention, emotional honesty, and a willingness to work with the life we still have. The losses are real. So is our capacity to respond thoughtfully. The goal isn’t to eliminate our emotions — but to remain steady, engaged, and respectful of them.

My question is this: What emotional changes in aging have surprised you the most? For me, it’s been the increased worry coupled with a loss of self-confidence.

Please let your friends and family know about the newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, forward this email and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for five years and is currently publishing a book based on the articles.

Again, I want to welcome all the new subscribers and thank everyone who takes the time to read my articles. Your support means so much.

The monthly pop-up discussions are an opportunity to explore aging well in greater depth. As we grow older, sharing ideas and information with others becomes increasingly important. It gives us a chance to voice our ideas and concerns.

If you’re reading the newsletter, I assume, like me, you’re interested in staying healthy and enjoying the rest of your life to the fullest. Experience is telling me it’s not as easy as I thought.

Six previous articles focused on the ongoing themes the newsletter addresses: understanding the mind-body connection in later life, defining and protecting our quality of life as we age, and navigating the healthcare system as we age.

So this month's question is this: given those themes, how are you doing with them, and what might you recommend?

My answer is:

1. I’m paying greater attention to the mind-body connection - listening to and honoring both.

2. I’m actively saying no to activities I don’t want to participate in and focusing on ones I do - thinking of energy as the new currency and considering how I want to spend it.

3. I’m preparing for any future medical situations that could occur.

How might you respond?

Leave a comment

A few guidelines

• Comments are friendly and supportive.

• I reserve the right to delete posts if necessary.

• I’m no longer a licensed therapist, nor am I a medical professional, so don’t offer advice; I only share ideas based on my experience.

Let’s get started, and welcome! Ready?

Even though my three eye surgeries went very well and were successful, I remain leery of doctors and hospitals. Given several bad experiences over the years and after what we went through as my husband struggled with dementia, I’ve lost some trust in them.

The healthcare system claims to be our "friend"—a support structure for well-being—providing tools, expertise, and safety nets necessary to maintain health, treat illness, and improve quality of life. Theoretically, its purpose is to serve and protect us. Yet it often seems to act in adversarial ways for a variety of reasons.

It’s widely recognized.

The U.S. healthcare system often appears to work against a patient's interests by prioritizing profit over care, leading to unsustainable costs, high medical debt, and surprise billing.

It frequently denies or delays coverage, limits access based on employment status, focuses on treating illness rather than prevention, and seems increasingly profit-driven rather than patient-centered.

I’m finding.

We must be our own advocates. That means understanding insurance, organizing medical records, building a relationship with our primary care provider, preparing for visits with questions and documentation, using websites, knowing when to use urgent care or the emergency room, and clarifying costs upfront.

• Certainly, there may be times when I need medical care. If and when those times arise, I want to take responsibility for myself rather than being solely controlled by external forces.

Agency

I’m really talking about personal agency - the belief in our ability to steer our own lives rather than be driven by circumstances - making choices and acting accordingly.

In the healthcare system, that means being involved in our care, making decisions, asking questions, and advocating for ourselves - in other words, co-owning our health process.

We build that agency when we:

• Ask questions to ensure we completely understand diagnoses, tests, and medications.

• Address concerns immediately when we feel them.

• Use patient advocates, bring a trusted person to appointments, and keep accurate records.

• Practice patience, pleasantness, and persistence.

• Find alternative perspectives if our needs aren’t met.

We can apply agency in various ways as we navigate the healthcare system.

• Moving from passive recipient to active partner, co-owning treatment decisions.

• Researching conditions, options, risks, and benefits to make empowered decisions.

• Clearly explaining our needs, preferences, and concerns to medical providers.

• Understanding medical information and consciously agreeing to treatment plans.

We might benefit from developing agency by:

• Lowering the chance of unnecessary tests and procedures.

• Enhancing confidence, reducing stress, and increasing resilience.

• Allowing ourselves to generate trust and mutual respect with healthcare providers.

In essence, it’s about shifting our mindset from letting the system totally dictate our care to taking responsibility for our own health.

Maybe it’s unrealistic, but I would want my doctor or hospital setting to:

• Have a holistic approach to healthcare and recognize the mind-body connection.

• Use a patient-provider team approach.

• Clarify the purposes and side effects of prescribed medications.

• Look for root causes of symptoms rather than simply treating them.

• Provide information about lifestyle changes that reduce posssible dependence on prescription medications.

My question for you is this: Does your current personal medical strategy reflect what matters most to you?

I love sharing the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, please forward this email to a friend or family member and invite them to join us. They can subscribe to this free newsletter here.

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Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for five years and is publishing a book based on the articles.

In 2016, Dan, my husband of 59 years, was an active 78-year-old full-time website administrator. He loved his job, worked on projects, and was always planning activities for us. While he took no prescription drugs and was relatively healthy, he was also showing signs of memory loss. Overall, though, he was managing.

That is, until he had emergency surgery and was hospitalized for nine days. Whether he needed the surgery remains a question in my mind, but the doctors said he did, and I wasn’t knowledgeable or assertive enough to refute them at the time.

While in the hospital, Dan was disoriented, combative, and confused. When he came home, his body quickly recovered, but not his memory.

When we realized it was not improving, I spoke with the anesthetist, who assured me that while memory issues do occur, patients typically recover quickly. Our doctor tested him and said there was no problem; we took her word for it.

We knew his memory was failing, and there was no cure, so our children and I decided to deal with the issues as they arose and let him live as normal a life as possible for as long as possible.

Within a year, Dan was forced to retire; he could no longer do the job. He got lost on trips to the grocery two miles from home and couldn’t remember the names of people he knew well. For the next few years, his memory worsened, and we coped. I reluctantly took over as the head of our household and became his primary care provider.

When I couldn’t manage his behavior any longer and didn’t feel we were safe, he moved to a locked memory care facility, where he contracted COVID and died.

I’ve written about his story before; it was the most traumatic time of my life. It haunted me, and I had to understand why. Yes, he was experiencing memory loss, but he was functioning normally until that hospital stay.

Afterward, his memory deteriorated dramatically. He would have periods of clarity, but then he’d forget or deny what he said or did, like make a doctor’s appointment and then refuse to go.

So, I began reading about older adults taking multiple medications, having anesthesia, and being hospitalized for a period of time. I was stunned and truthfully furious. Why wasn’t this information included in the discussion when I was making decisions about his surgery, hospital stays, and memory care experience?

Today, I’d be better prepared: ask many questions about side effects and complications, ensure that doctors are aware of relevant health and medication issues, and be well-informed about the illness before making such life-altering decisions.

The bottom line is that age-related changes in metabolism, brain chemistry, and organ function can increase sensitivity to drugs and raise the risk of confusion, delirium, prolonged recovery, or adverse reactions.

Most of us don’t think much about hospitals or what that entails until we need them. But as we age, these experiences may become more likely—and often more complex —physically and emotionally.

So, understanding how they affect older adults and knowing which questions to ask can help patients and caregivers advocate for safer care, smoother recovery, and better outcomes. Here’s what I’ve learned.

Prescription Drugs

According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse, substance use disorder (SUD) is a growing issue in adults aged 65 and older. They’re more likely to take prescription medications and experience chronic pain and health problems associated with aging, which, in turn, can contribute to substance misuse and complicate treatment.

Anesthesia

According to a recent study, many older patients suffer long-term mental decline after major surgery. Research also identified the issue of cognitive decline after surgery as a cause for concern that is not receiving adequate attention.

The aging brain is more vulnerable to anesthesia, especially when deep surgery is involved. Heart or lung disease, Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease, or having had a stroke increase the risk.

I wonder why those risks were never mentioned before my husband’s surgery.

Hospital Stays

Studies found that hospitalization can accelerate cognitive decline in older adults. Results indicate that even a short stay might result in a mental delay two times faster than a person’s rate before hospitalization.

When I realized that Dan, who was already experiencing some memory loss, had anesthesia for surgery, took no prescription drugs prior to the stay, where he got pages of meds, and was in the hospital for nine days, the outcome made sense.

We went through hell for four years, beginning with the emergency surgery. I’ve agonized about what I could have done differently. These ideas come to mind:

• Ask questions, such as whether a specific medication was necessary or whether there were less invasive options before surgery.

• Learn about the prescribed medications and their combined effects.

• Check with the anesthetist in advance regarding potential risks and concerns.

• Give doctors a list of prescriptions and over-the-counter drugs being taken at the time, and if memory issues are involved.

• Request a second opinion or contact the family physician first. We went to the emergency room - that was not the best first option.

• Listen to my intuition. I questioned several decisions, but didn’t speak up.

• Be more assertive with him and the medical professionals.

• Get prescriptions to manage his anxiety and aggressiveness.

I couldn’t change the course of the disease, but maybe we could have managed better, and he could have remained home a while longer if we had been better prepared.

Please let others know about the Aging Well newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers. They can subscribe below.

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Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been publishing articles on Substack for the past five years and has recently written a book based on those aritcles - one more way to read them.

I’ve really tried to accept life's changes, but it doesn’t seem to be working very well. The problem seems to be that deep and real emotions remain: feelings of sadness for what was, fear of taking on the new, indescribable grief over the loss of my husband, and frustration with new aches, pains, and limitations.

Discontent with the term probably began when his dementia reared its ugly head, then there was caregiving, his death, and starting a new life; now there is aging. My disagreement stems from definitions that describe "accepting" as agreeing with or coming to terms with a situation. They seem to imply a yes or emotional settling into the new reality - the emotional settling in is what stops me.

My husband died - it’s a fact. I’ve adjusted and moved forward, but being in inner harmony with it, not so much - strong feelings regarding the enormous losses involved remain.

The struggle continues as my body ages. If I were to accept what professionals say a person of my age can or can’t do without carefully testing it for myself, I might miss out on many wonderful experiences.

Experts Say vs. What I’m Finding

Experts Say: An 87-year-old often faces compounded health and lifestyle challenges, including chronic conditions like hypertension, arthritis, and diabetes, alongside increased risks of falls, cognitive decline, and mobility limitations.

• At this age, I have some arthritis and impaired eyesight due to a detached retina. That’s it. I exercise regularly to prevent falls, take no prescription drugs, and am a lifelong learner, which helps keep my mind sharp.

Experts Say: An 80-plus-year-old woman can maintain an active and fulfilling life through tailored physical activity, mental engagement, and social connection. Key activities include walking, gentle gardening, water aerobics, yoga, crafting, playing games, volunteering, attending community events, and using technology to connect socially.

• I walk and climb four flights of stairs daily, practice Qigong, take care of my plants, my home, and the cats, write this newsletter, and do art, but not so much volunteering or attending community events.

• I have a sense of purpose, a wonderful family and friends, and goals to pursue.

• Yes, activities take more time, and my energy is lower, but I focus on doing as much as I can - that is, if I remember.

Experts Say: In reality, aging well may begin not with acceptance, but with acknowledgment—the honest recognition of what is changing, what is being lost, and what remains.

• This sentence opened the door to a different understanding of acceptance.

My new mindset

I recently read that acknowledgment is the cognitive recognition of physical and circumstantial changes, and acceptance is the emotional, non-resistant embrace of those changes as part of a meaningful life.

I can honestly acknowledge that my husband died, there’ve been many losses, and my body is aging. Those are facts. At the same time, my heart misses what was; profound sadness and frustration remain - for now.

Perhaps it’s about how we interpret the word acceptance. Some of us are perfectly fine with it, others, not as much. Some of us are at the honest acknowledgment stage; others have resolved the emotional settling-in.

Where we stand on the issue is fine. For me, it’s nice to stick with honestly acknowledging for now and allow the acceptance if and when it occurs.

I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, please forward this email to a friend or family member and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

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Thanks for reading! Did you know that you can subscribe for free and receive new posts and support my work?

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for 5 years and is publishing a book of articles, intended as a handy reference.

I was never an angry person, and have been surprised by the absolute fury that has erupted over the past few years. It may have started when I began caring for my husband, Dan, as he dealt with dementia and then died from Covid, but that was years ago. So this anger seems to have additional causes. Sometimes I explode over something very small, which sends the cats into hiding, Bella under the covers, and Bailey behind a chair.

In analyzing myself, I’d say environmental factors, loss of independence, and anxiety are major contributors. Numerous aches and pains, stomach upsets, things I can’t or don’t know how to do, life’s changes and challenges, and fear also play a role.

“Grumpy Old Woman Syndrome” isn’t a medical condition, but a term for older women who are frequently angry, irritable, and resentful. I’d never heard of it before.

Those emotions may stem from unaddressed hurts, unmet needs, and perceived unfairnesses. Irritability is a low-grade form of anger. Resentment is a festering, long-term anger that can harm mental health and relationships if not managed by expressing our needs, being assertive, and confronting underlying issues.

Older adults can be grumpy for various reasons, which include:

• Neurological conditions like Alzheimer’s Disease

• Chronic pain, undiagnosed illnesses, hunger, or general discomfort

• Untreated depression, anxiety, and grief

• Dependence on others for daily tasks, which may create feelings of vulnerability and a sense of lost control

• Changes in routine, overstimulation, loud noises, or unfamiliar surroundings

• Interactions and side effects from multiple prescriptions

• Loneliness and disengagement

Learning about that term helped me understand why I was more irritable and angry than I’d ever been. It wasn’t just me having those feelings for no reason; other older adults had them, too. That knowledge allows me to be kinder to myself when they surface.

But many professionals don’t seem to focus on the role of emotions as much. They make the “Grumpy Old Woman Syndrome” seem like something that’s easily fixed, which may not be true for everyone.

Experts Say:

• Older adults should take a compassionate approach, characterized by patience and understanding of their unique circumstances, when those emotions arise.

• We should manage our anger, irritation, and resentment by identifying the underlying causes, promoting calm through mindfulness and exercise, honoring our feelings, ensuring good communication, and maintaining social connections.

• Lifestyle changes improve emotional regulation - the ability to monitor, evaluate, and modify our emotional reactions.

• Adopting a longevity mindset and viewing challenges as part of growth rather than obstacles can help us avoid these emotions.

What I’m finding:

• I really don’t want to be a grumpy old woman, and I’m compassionate with myself to a degree, but being compassionate is often no match for the many triggers that pop up. A perfect example is the song, “Unchained Melody,” which was popular in 1958, the year we were married. Every time I hear it, I remember, and sadness creeps in.

• Mindfulness can help the feelings subside - but they also come roaring back.

• I’ve changed, but the fact that Dan isn’t here to share in this new life triggers anger, resentment, and sadness.

Acknowledging the facts, taking a break, understanding what causes these emotions, and being compassionate with myself help, but they don’t fix everything either.

It’s worth the effort to keep figuring this out.

Here’s a question for you: If you experience grumpy feelings, what loss or frustration might be underlying them? For me, the answer is the loss of the person I loved and the life I had.

I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over my lifetime and caregiving experience with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, please forward this email to a friend or family member and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

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Thanks for reading. Did you know that if you subscribe, you’ll receive a free weekly post every Friday and support my work?

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for five years and is currently publishing a book based on the articles - a handy reference source, if you will.

Before we get started, I want to welcome all the new subscribers. The newsletter is now five years old. It started with two subscribers, my daughter and son. Today, there are over 4,000, far beyond my wildest imagination. So, thanks to each and every one who takes the time to read my articles and participate.

Now then, pop-up discussions take place about every four weeks and offer us an opportunity to explore aging well in greater depth. As we grow older, sharing ideas and information with others becomes increasingly important. We have an opportunity to voice our ideas and concerns.

If you read the newsletter, I assume that, like me, you’re interested in staying healthy and enjoying the rest of your life to the fullest. However, experience tells me it’s sometimes easier said than done.

Research shows that as we get older, our quality of life - the subjective perception of our well-being, happiness, and contentment with life circumstances - affects how much we enjoy it.

So, the questions we’re pondering this time are:

• How do we rate our quality of life - that overall sense of well-being?

• What gets in the way of it being better?

• What would we recommend for others who wish to improve theirs?

My answer would be: on the surface, life is as good as it can be. What gets in the way is a lack of compassion and the worries I hold on to. Experts say awareness is the first step. Then, they suggest being grateful, mindful, and looking for little glimmers of joy. My great-granddaughters and my cats bring that glimmer very easily.

Your turn.

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A few guidelines

• Comments are friendly and supportive.

• I reserve the right to delete posts if necessary.

• I’m no longer a licensed counselor nor am I a medical professional, so I offer no advice, only thoughts based on my experience.

Let’s get started, and welcome! Ready?

I recently went to Kaua’i with my daughter and her husband. I fell in love with the roosters who roamed freely, the turtles that came ashore at dusk, and the nenes, or Hawaiian geese, who stopped traffic as they meandered across the highway. What a peaceful, enchanting place.

However, it seems my body didn’t get the memo, or it rebelled, making the trip less enjoyable. The constant knee pain surprised me, even though I wore a brace, especially on those six-hour plane rides, and the stomach problems, but we won’t go into that. The unsettling truth was that my body sure couldn’t do what it did four years ago when we went to the Big Island.

What I hadn’t realized was that for many of us, aging introduces a tug-of-war between the body we live in and the self we still are. Inside, we feel familiar, capable, curious, and engaged. At the same time, our bodies move more slowly, tire more easily, and require adjustments, which can be confusing, frustrating, painful, and downright depressing.

This tug-of-war is understandable - our sense of self doesn’t age the same as our bodies do. It’s built from memory, experience, values, and personality, which remain stable even as physical abilities falter. That’s why many older adults feel internally youthful, even though the mirror tells a very different story.

When physical changes begin to dictate our identity, then self-worth can suffer. We may start to believe:

• I’m not who I used to be.

• I’m becoming a burden.

• I don’t matter in the same way.

However, the self—the thinking, feeling, meaning-making part of us—continues to evolve, even though the body changes. We still have wisdom earned through experience, emotional depth and insight, the ability to connect, encourage, and contribute, and our creativity, sense of humor, and compassion.

Aging well may not require choosing between the two, but it does ask us to be aware of both - honestly and with compassion. It may even feel as if we’re on the periphery of our loved ones' and friends’ lives and of society in general because we can’t participate as we once did.

This tug-of-war may soften if the body and the self become partners. The body becomes something we care for—not something we fight with or demand to do something it can no longer do.

Experts say:

• We should listen to our bodies without resentment.

• Movement becomes medicine, rest becomes wisdom, and adaptation becomes strength.

What I’m finding:

• Listening to my body without resentment is often easier said than done. My reaction is frustration at fingers that don’t work the way they used to and at a body that tires more easily.

• Movement becomes medicine, but what about the sore knees that hurt when I exercise? Rest becomes wisdom, but what about the sleepless nights that include extra trips to the bathroom, worries about the future, and hot flashes that regularly occur? Adapting might become a strength, but it can also be annoying.

Modifying our expectations, acknowledging limitations without surrendering our sense of self, and finding a satisfactory middle ground are important.

This is a new way of thinking for me. I’m purposefully choosing to appreciate my body rather than be angry with it, to do things more slowly rather than make mistakes, and to develop compassion for both.

So I leave you with this question: How can you honor the body you live in and the self you still are without letting them define your value and self-worth?

I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible. Above all, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, feel free to forward this email to a friend or family member and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Subscribe now

Thank you for being part of the Aging Well community.

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She has written articles for Substack for the past five years and is currently publishing a book.

I’m realizing firsthand that aging is an emotional journey as well as a physical one. Our later years can be challenging due to added stress, anxiety, sadness, loneliness, family concerns, burnout, and trauma.

While many people find that aging offers opportunities for wisdom, a deeper appreciation of life, and the freedom to prioritize personal enjoyment over societal expectations, others find it more demanding than expected, due to a combination of accelerated physical decline, cognitive shifts, societal changes, and increased emotional losses.

I fall into the latter category far too often, and it seems to center around the emotional pain of losses not anticipated.

As I figure out how best to proceed, I’m finding that experts' suggestions are often easier said than done and not always accurate.

What the experts say:

• Experts suggest focusing on a healthy diet and an active lifestyle. The healthier and more active we are, the greater our flexibility, and vice versa.

What I’m also finding to be true:

• For me, aging has brought inevitable, yet unexpected, changes: reduced muscle mass, less energy, and sore joints, all of which are quite irritating.

• The same daily activities that once took little effort now require more, which increases my frustration.

What the experts say:

• Experts say that despite the challenges, research indicates that emotional well-being can improve because older adults are often better at regulating emotions, thereby reducing reactivity to daily stressors.

• They say we should frame responses to crises by focusing on the positives rather than dwelling on the negatives, and handle our problems with flexibility and adaptability.

What I’m also finding to be true:

• I haven’t found regulating my emotions easy. They don’t always play by the rules.

  • Technology is evolving quickly, lifestyles are changing rapidly, and norms are shifting. I’m often confused and unsure about the pace and number of all the so-called advances.

  • The fear of becoming a “burden” is enormous, so I keep my needs to myself and try to be as independent as possible, which tends to add stress.

  • I have lists of projects to complete, but lately my body has been saying no more often, creating doubt and anxiety.

What the experts say:

• Experts recommend engaging with family and friends, joining a close-knit community, or taking a paid or volunteer job. In other words, getting involved in activities that give our lives meaning.

What I’m also finding to be true:

• After my husband died, I lost friends - we no longer had things in common, they didn’t know what to say to me, and I often felt like a third wheel.

• My son, my grandson, and their families moved out of state, so our interactions are primarily by text. I’m lonely for the face-to-face contact with them.

• I can do what experts recommend, and that doesn’t change the fact that the love of my life is no longer here to share it with me.

So, now I take what they say with a grain of salt, determine if and how it applies to me, and plan accordingly. Because at the end of the day, I’m responsible for my life and choices.

Please let your friends and family know about the newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

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Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for five years and is currently publishing a book based on the articles.

I’ve done reasonably well, adjusting to life’s changes. No, I can’t run a marathon or skydive, but that was never on my bucket list. I‘m unemployed, but I work from home, have no drive time, and set my own schedule. What a pleasure. I don’t have young children, but my grandsons and great-granddaughters visit regularly, which is great.

The life change that has been most challenging, though, is becoming a widow - on my own for the first time. I can acknowledge the fact and adapt to it. I can keep going, but graciously accepting it seems to be another story.

Experts say a common theme among people who lose a spouse or partner for whatever reason is the draining effect of feeling entirely alone and incomplete - as if they’ve lost an essential part of themselves. The world suddenly seems like a different place. They’re unsure how to cope with life in general, and sometimes wonder whether they want to try.

It’s been five years since my husband, Dan, died - I know those feelings all too well.

Professionals advise us to accept what's happening, practice self-compassion, maintain routines for stability, break significant changes into small steps, and use mindfulness to manage emotions, all while viewing change as an opportunity for growth and learning.

Those ideas haven’t worked particularly well for me because, at the end of the day, the most important person in my life isn't here - no kisses, no hugs, no one to share my hopes and dreams with.

I recently read about an approach that seemed worth further exploration, though. It’s called a quiet reinvention, and is described as a subtle, internal process of growth and alignment, focusing on small, consistent inner shifts like changing self-talk and habits rather than on dramatic external changes like moving to a retirement community, or giving up. It consists of four components:

• An internal focus.

• Making small, deliberate decisions that involve new habits, different choices, and higher standards—in turn building momentum and leading to change over time.

• A self-directed journey of growth requiring self-reflection, integrating insights, and using natural tools for self-care.

• Shifting beliefs, habits, and self-perception to align with a deep sense of purpose - leading to changes that often become apparent only in hindsight.

• No longer tolerating what drains us, allowing ourselves to want more, and finding clarity in quiet moments.

This concept rings true for me because it’s what I’d been doing without realizing it the past year - reinventing myself in small steps. I’ve been throwing away or donating clothing and furniture I haven’t used for years, deleting programs on my computer that weren’t serving me, and saying no to things I don’t want to do.

While writing this article, I read the post “Reinventing by Design," which offered a way forward by suggesting we identify skills and values we had in past roles as parents, managers, and teachers, and apply them to our lives today. That point stuck with me - I’m still me, but I can use my skills and qualities differently given today’s circumstances.

I plan to continue on this path: to let go of the past while using who I still am in new ways.

P.S. Ironically, that post was written by my son, Doug; we had no idea what the other one was writing at the time.

I would love it if you would tell others about the newsletter. I want to share the lessons I’ve learned over the years of life and caregiving with as many people as possible, and, more than anything, I want to continue expanding our community of readers.

So, please forward this email to a friend and invite them to join us. They can subscribe here:

Dr. Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. She’s been writing a newsletter on Substack for five years and is in the process of publishing a book based on the articles.