If you’re over 60: Never say it — especially to family and friends
Sometimes a person utters a short, seemingly harmless phrase – and something inside him changes. It’s as if he has taken out a small part of himself and handed it over to someone else’s hands. Before, this part belonged to him, it warmed him, and now it is exposed to other people’s looks, assessments, unsolicited advice or, even worse, pity.
We live in a world where candor has been turned into a cult. “Be honest,” “Say what you feel,” “Don’t hold it in” – psychologists, books, and social networks tell us. But there are things that, like the old family tablecloth, are better kept in your own closet. Not because they are shameful, but because there is too much personal, fragile, vulnerable in them. Especially in a more mature age.
One evening I was sitting alone in the kitchen – I brewed some mint tea, and under the street lamp outside the shadows of the lilac swayed. My neighbor Kostya rang – we studied together at the technical school, and now we are both pensioners. He came “in five minutes”, as always, but stayed for more than an hour. We talked about everything and nothing, when suddenly he said:
– You know, Vitya, I don’t tell my son that I sometimes take medication on credit. And I keep quiet about my blood pressure. He’ll start to worry, call me every day, control me. And I don’t need that… – he waved his hand – I don’t need it. I’ll handle it myself.
I remained silent. But then I thought about his words for a long time and realized – he was absolutely right.
There are things that, when we get old, we don’t have to explain to anyone – not to children, not to grandchildren, not to friends. And complaints are the most dangerous – because every complaint is like a capitulation. And after sixty, such a capitulation costs too much.
What is better to remain silent about?
1. About pain and diagnoses
Talk about your health as if you are its master, not its victim. There is no need to spread your diagnoses in front of your loved ones like cards on a table. Illnesses are not a reason for “family councils.” You do not need to tell your daughter that your leg went numb at night, nor to your neighbor that captopril works best under the tongue. This is not a topic for conversation at dinner. A calm, “Thank you, I’m fine,” is enough. And that’s it. There is inner strength in that.
There is a fine line: getting treatment is right, but complaining is wrong. An old doctor my uncle knew once said: “The worst thing is when you pass on your pain to others.” Then the pain grows. It is no longer yours. It starts to rule your relationships. So get treatment, take care of yourself, but without drama. Leave the details between you and the doctor. All your loved ones need to know is that you are staying the course.
