It is fall, and once again I seem to be spending more and more time in my closet. Sitting on my pretty green ladder in that cozy little space, surrounded by belongings that have stories of their own, seems to bring out the writer in me. My beautiful shoes are lined up like little soldiers, while my clothes hang shoulder to shoulder on their lucite hangers, waiting patiently for me to announce an occasion that may or may not come. Nearby, my handbags, scarves, jewelry, and other goodies sit quietly, each holding a memory. Lately, this quiet space has also had me thinking about friendships after 50 and the meaningful connections that continue to shape our lives.

So I sit, I look, and, naturally, I begin to daydream. Lately, I have realized that my closet has become one of my favorite metaphors for life. My fall closet ritual goes something like this: I open the doors, gaze at everything I have collected over the years, and begin asking questions. What do I keep? What do I give away? And what do I finally have the courage to toss? Those questions apply to far more than clothing. They apply to friendships, too.

Friendships After 50 Deserve an Edit

Yesterday, a close girlfriend hosted a luncheon for twenty-five women who had impacted her life in some way. Some of the friendships went all the way back to childhood. These were women who understood her past, believed in her future, and accepted her as she was. She wanted all of us to meet one another, and she wanted to thank us for our friendship. I thought that was lovely.

As I dressed for the luncheon, standing among all of “my finds” that I have collected over the years, I looked at my keepers and thought about what each had brought into my life. Some pieces have traveled the world with me. Some have attended celebrations. Some remind me of a particular place, person, or chapter. Sitting on my green ladder, I began thinking that a woman’s friendships after 50 deserve the same kind of thoughtful editing.

Not because friendship becomes less important as we age. Quite the opposite. Time becomes more valuable, energy becomes more valuable, and the women with whom we choose to spend that time become more important than ever.

What to Keep

We accumulate relationships much the way we accumulate a wardrobe over the years. Some friendships somehow remain no matter how much time passes. Others belong to a particular passage of life: women we knew through work, travel, raising children, playing cards or sports, volunteering, or sitting beside one another at countless luncheons and community events. There is nothing wrong with that. Not every friendship is meant to last forever.

But eventually, just as we do when standing in front of our closets, we begin asking ourselves: Why am I still keeping this? Just because a dress has been hanging in your closet for twenty years does not mean it still fits. The same is true of relationships.

A woman should keep the special women who still “fit.” Keep the woman who makes you laugh, the woman who tells you the truth without trying to hurt you, and the woman who celebrates your good fortune instead of secretly resenting it. Keep the woman who appears when you truly need her, and the woman whose comfort level matches yours, who can sit beside you in silence without feeling the need to fill every second with chatter. Keep the woman you respect for her curiosity, intellect, generosity, and sincere kindness. And, Darling, keep the woman who can give another woman a genuine compliment. Those women are classics. They never go out of style.

What to Give Away

Then there are the women who were once exactly right for a particular chapter but no longer fit comfortably into the life you are living today. We grow in different directions. Our priorities change, our interests change, and circumstances change. Sometimes there is no dramatic falling-out, betrayal, or angry goodbye. A friendship simply reaches its natural ending.

I think there can be something peaceful about recognizing that. You can appreciate what a woman once meant to you and still acknowledge that the relationship no longer belongs in your everyday life. A beautiful dress can serve you wonderfully for years and still eventually become something another woman should enjoy. Why should friendship be so different?

We do not have to turn every ending into a tragedy. Some people belong to a season. Be grateful for the season. Then let it pass.

The Toss Pile

This is where women sometimes have trouble. We hold on because we are polite, because we have known someone forever, because our families know one another, because we do not want to hurt feelings, or because we fear looking unkind. Perhaps we simply do not know how to let go. I understand that. For much of my life, I was a woman who tried very hard to make relationships work.

But my Ultimate Concierge’s illness thrust me into a role that was never naturally mine. He was always the Alpha in our life together. He was my partner, protector, sounding board, decision-maker, and Ultimate Concierge. As vascular dementia changed our lives, I gradually found myself having to step into roles I had never expected to carry alone.

Over the past three years, little by little, I have discovered a positive inner strength I did not know I possessed. Thankfully, I have learned that becoming stronger does not require losing my soft side. That matters to me. Darling, there is enormous power in becoming strong enough to be true to your feelings.

Making Room for the Woman I Am Now

As I sit on my little green ladder, I turn my attention away from my closet and toward myself. Maybe cleaning out the closet is not really about getting rid of clothes. Maybe editing friendships after 50 is not really about “getting rid” of women either. Perhaps it is about making room for the woman I am at this point in my life.

I like women. I am naturally a people person. I am curious about people, their stories, their ideas, their backgrounds, and what makes them tick. But lately, I have become more discerning about who I invite into my inner circle. I have become more selective.

A beautifully edited closet does not contain everything a woman has ever owned. It contains the pieces she admires, the pieces that fit, the pieces that make her feel like herself, and the pieces that still belong in the life she is living today. I have decided my inner and outer circles should work the same way. Deleting women is secondary. Knowing how to choose is mandatory.

Reinvention After 50

My dear friend Joyce, who is much older than I am, told me years ago that a woman should reinvent herself every ten years so she does not become stale. I never forgot that, and I believe I have reached one of those moments again. It is exciting.

The reinvention has been happening slowly over time, almost without my realizing it. New interests are emerging. Old interests are deepening. Things that once seemed important no longer have the same hold on me. As I stare at my collection of clothes, I wonder what will someday fill those empty lucite hangers. Then I wonder the same thing about my life. Who will appear? What new interest will capture me? What door will open? What part of myself have I not met yet?

That is the delicious part of reinvention after 50. You are not erasing the woman you were. You are adding another layer.

The Evolution of Friendships Over 50

My toss pile is not my enemy. Neither are the women I choose to leave behind. Like clothes that no longer fit my body or my lifestyle, some relationships simply no longer fit the woman I have become. That does not make either of us bad women. It simply means we are no longer the right size for one another.

Darling, I am not trying to build a larger closet. I am trying to build a better one. The same applies to my friendships after 50. I want quality, curiosity, kindness, and substance. I want women who bring something into my life, and I want to bring something meaningful into theirs.

So I find myself deciding who my keepers are, what relationships might need a little alteration, and what I am ready to quietly let go.

How I Let Go

I do not announce it when I decide a relationship has run its course. There is no final speech worthy of Broadway! I simply stop inviting that person into every room of my life. I become less available, and I stop forcing what no longer feels natural.

I do not believe every relationship needs a formal autopsy. Sometimes a quiet step backward is enough. I close the door gently, and I take the high road. Thank you, Dad.

My father taught me that dignity often says less rather than more. I have found that lesson especially valuable with age.

Empty Hangers Are Possibilities

As I sit on my little green ladder, I notice several empty hangers. At first, they look lonely. Then I have my aha moment: an empty hanger is not loneliness. An empty hanger is possibility. It represents room for something new.

My mother taught me how to shop when I was a little girl. She would remind me to be selective. “A stuffed closet is not style, Susan,” she would tell me. “Fashion is here today and gone tomorrow. Choose a classic that never goes out of style.” She was right.

I do not want a stuffed closet, and I do not want a life stuffed with people simply for the sake of being surrounded. I want my lucite hangers to hold things I value, and I want my life to hold people and ideas that are keepers.

Perhaps it is the unexpected woman who teaches me something, the woman whose uniqueness makes me smile, the woman who is soft but wise, the woman who wonders, or the woman who has not become stuck inside her own life. I am not interested in collecting. I am interested in curating. One fills a closet. The other creates a story.

I Am Not Replacing My Dear Friends

Let me be very clear. I am not trying to discard my dear and closest friends. I love them, I need them, I admire them, and I enjoy them. We chose one another for reasons that are near and dear to our hearts, and some of those relationships will last a lifetime. Those women are my classics.

Instead, I want to add another layer to my curated collection of dear friends and acquaintances. I want to search for unknowns, as I once did in chemistry class! I want women who introduce me to subjects, places, ideas, and ways of thinking I do not already know.

The good life, to me, is about understanding more, seeing more, knowing more, feeling more, and remaining curious enough to continue opening doors. That is what I want the next decade of my life to contain.

Who Belongs in My Next Decade?

It has been ten years. It is time for me to recreate. As I sit on my little green ladder staring at those empty lucite hangers, I imagine the people I would like to add to the wardrobe of my life.

I want an eclectic collection. I want the intellectual woman who can lead me more deeply into Jewish literature, history, and ideas. I want the traveler who wants to go beyond hotels and sightseeing, the woman who wants to understand a place rather than simply visit it. I want the nature woman who understands gardens, trees, landscapes, seasons, food, and the natural world. I want the connector who knows fascinating people and opens interesting doors.

Most importantly, I want women with expansive minds and expansive lives. Not because my current life or friendships are lacking, but because I want to continue growing.

Curating Your Life and Friendships After 50

Because of my friend Joyce, I find myself curating my life again. Not because the life I built before was wrong. It was wonderful. But I am no longer exactly the same woman who built it. A decade can change everything: how we see ourselves, the people we love, the places we want to go, the questions we ask, and the dreams we are finally ready to pursue. What once felt essential may no longer fit. What once seemed impossible may suddenly feel necessary.

Darling, curating your life does not mean erasing your past. It means honoring what has been while creating space for what comes next. At one stage of my life, I focused on raising a family, building a career, caring for others, and creating a home. Other decades brought travel, deeper friendships, intellectual stimulation, creative work, and eventually caregiving. The priorities change because we change.

It can be unsettling to reach for new heights because many of us were taught to think of life as something we build once and then maintain. But life is not a finished home. It is more like a room we continue rearranging. Or, in my case, a closet!

My Ten-Year Formula

Every ten years, I believe a woman should ask herself a few honest questions: What still fits? What have I outgrown? And perhaps most importantly, what belongs in the next decade of my life? This is my current formula.

ASK: What role do I want my life to play next?

DESIRE: What do I want more of? What makes me feel awake?

DISCARD: What has expired? Edit your life the way you edit your wardrobe. Clothes and accessories leave the closet, and relationships, obligations, identities, and habits may need to leave as well.

DISCOVER: Do not sit home waiting for a new circle to magically find you. Go where interesting people gather: museums, literary conversations, gardens, travel, intimate dinners, philanthropic circles, and places where ideas are alive.

CAST: Who gets a role in the next ten-year act of your life?

MOVE: Make a plan and then take one consequential action. Not a giant leap. One move. Just as in chess, one move creates the possibility for another.

Remember, your closet is your life. Your friendships, experiences, and ideas are your wardrobe. Some are classics. Some are treasures. Some belong to a particular season. Some need a little tailoring. And some simply no longer fit.

Isn’t it exciting to imagine who and what might someday occupy those empty hangers?

 

One New Friendship Can Open a Door

Recently, I had a small gathering at my home. One of my guests was a woman I had met through mahjong. During our conversation, she asked whether I had heard of a group called Momentum, a Jewish organization that connects mothers and grandmothers with Jewish values, Israel, family, and community. She told me about its flagship program, the Momentum Journey of Growth, an intensive trip to Israel.

I listened, and my curiosity lit up. I have traveled to Israel before, but this felt different. I have already been thinking deeply about my Jewish identity, my desire to spend more time in Israel, and the possibility of exploring another chapter of my life there.

So I made a move. I became involved with the group. I do not know precisely where it will lead, and that is part of the excitement.

A woman I met through mahjong introduced me to an idea. The idea opened a door. Suddenly, one of those empty lucite hangers does not seem quite so empty anymore. A transformation may be on the horizon.

The Next Decade Is a Sequel

My past has given me plenty of material with which to reinvent my future. I have no desire to erase what came before. I carry my marriage, my family, my travels, my friendships, my triumphs, my mistakes, my losses, and all the women I have been. But I also know there are more chapters to write.

Perhaps that is the gift of friendships after 50. We become wise enough to understand that not everyone has to remain forever. We become brave enough to release relationships that no longer fit. And, if we remain curious, we become open enough to allow fascinating new people to walk into our lives. My next decade will not be a completely new book. It will be a sequel. And Darling, you know how I feel about a good story.

So I sit on my pretty green ladder, staring at my empty lucite hangers, and instead of feeling lonely, I feel possibility. There is room for new ideas, new experiences, new friendships, and another version of me. My closet is in for a change. And perhaps I am, too.

When you look at the “closet” of your own life, what are your keepers? What might need a little tailoring? And what are you finally ready to release to make room for something new? I would love for you to share your thoughts with our community in the comments below.