I Don't Know Who I Am Anymore - When Identity Disappears After 60

Wake up thinking, 'Who am I now?' after 60? Many women experience this. Learn why identity crisis happens, what's actually going on, and 3 practical steps that help.

Elderly woman with a red striped shirt smiling down at the beach

In this Article:

    The questions we whisper to ourselves

    Have you ever woken up one morning and thought, "I don't know who I am anymore"?

    "I don't matter to anyone anymore."

    "I'm so bored with my life."

    "Why do I feel so unhappy?"

    "Something is missing, but I don't know what it is."

    Maybe you've whispered one of these to yourself. Maybe you've thought them in the quiet moments and been too afraid to say them out loud.

    What's actually happening

    Our identity WAS built on roles.

    Mum, professional, wife, sister, friend. The capable one, the one who handled things and organised everything.

    And after 60? A lot of those roles either disappear or shrink dramatically.

    Your kids don't need you the same way. Work might be done or winding down. Your body isn't performing like it used to. Even your friendships might have shifted.

    So you're standing there thinking, "If I'm not THAT anymore... then what am I?"

    And here's what makes it so much worse: everyone tells you this should be your time. You should be grateful, relaxed, and feel free.

    But you don't feel free. You feel like you're floating aimlessly without a job description.

    That's not depression or ingratitude. That's grief mixed with an identity crisis, and it's completely normal.

    But normal doesn't mean you have to just sit with it and suffer.

    Have you felt this? That strange disconnect between the person you see in the mirror and the person you thought you'd be at this age?

    You're not alone

    If this resonates with you, please be assured that this isn't a personal failing. This is the natural consequence of living in a world that taught us that our value came from how well we cared for others. Putting our needs right down at the bottom of the priority list.

    We are products of the 1950s and 60s, a time when a woman's worth was measured by how successfully she disappeared into her roles. Whether in the jobs we did or the caring roles we did.

    And whilst we intellectually know we have options our mothers didn't have, that knowing hasn't necessarily translated into feeling empowered to claim those options. We're facing an identity crisis that our generation wasn't prepared for.

    Lovely pink rose with blooms and buds with water droplets on it

    Three things that actually help

    First: Stop trying to replace what you lost.

    You're not getting your 40-year-old identity back. You're not going to feel the same way you did when your kids were little, or your career was peaking.

    So stop looking for a new role that gives you the same kind of emotional hit.

    Ask yourself: What did I love about those old roles that I can access differently now?

    Was it affirmation or validation?
    Did you love being needed? Find a way to provide yourself with that sense of self-validation.

    Did you love learning and growing?
    Pick something new that genuinely interests you, not something you think you "should" do.

    Did you love feeling competent?
    Build something small where you can actually see progress.

    The goal isn't to replicate your old identity. It's to extract what mattered and rebuild it on your terms, as your life is now.

    Second: Get specific about who you're becoming, not just who you were.

    Most identity work focuses on looking backward - exploring your past for clues.

    That's useful, but it's not enough. You need to look forward, and I don't mean vision boards or vague aspirations.

    I mean, getting brutally specific about three things:

    1. What do you actually want to do with your time?
    Not what sounds impressive, but what genuinely interests you right now?

    2. What values and personal strengths matter most to you now?
    They might be different from what mattered at 40, and that's fine.

    3. What does "feeling alive" look like for you specifically?
    Not active, not busy, but alive and vital.

    Write those down. Don't overthink it, just get them out of your head and onto paper. Because you can't build a new identity if you don't know what you're building toward.

    Third: Do one small thing that proves you're still capable of growth.

    An identity crisis feels like stuckness. Like you've peaked, and now you're just managing decline. So you need evidence to the contrary.

    Not much evidence, small, meaningful evidence.

    Learn something that feels slightly hard. Master one new recipe, or take a different walking route and actually notice things. Have one conversation where you're genuinely curious instead of polite.

    It doesn't matter what it is. What matters is that you prove to yourself: I can still learn, I can still change, and I’m still in motion.

    Because identity isn't static. It's something you build through action, not something you find through reflection alone.

    Close-up of Penelope Lane's hands resting on her lap while seated in a floral armchair.

    The paradox you’re living in

    The truth about an identity crisis after 60 is that you can hate that your old identity is gone AND be curious about who you're becoming. And learning to love that.

    Both things can be true at once.

    You don't have to be grateful for this transition. You don't have to pretend it's some beautiful unfolding. You can grieve what you've lost and still take steps forward.

    That's not a contradiction. That's honest ageing.

    And honestly? The women who do this well aren't the ones who "embrace" ageing with a smile. They're the ones who say, "This is hard. I hate parts of it, and I'm going to figure out who I am anyway."

    That's capacity. That's strength, whole strength - which is what I teach.

    Not just physical fitness, not just positive thinking, but the integration of body, mind, heart, and soul. The hard truth is that you're still here and still growing, whether you like it or not.

    Where to start

    If you're sitting there thinking, "I don't know who I am anymore," start here:

    Stop trying to replace what you lost.

    Get specific about who you're becoming.

    Do one small thing that proves you're still capable of growth.

    That's not a fix. It's a start.

    Remember: you can hate getting older and still love who you're becoming.

    Elderly woman smiling and leaning on the edge of a pool with a pink swimmers cap and blue goggles.

    Closing Thoughts

    If this resonates with you, please comment below and share it with someone who might be struggling with the same feelings.

    Ready to stop fighting your age and start building actual strength? Subscribe to Ageing Honestly HERE for bi-weekly essays and videos that tell the truth about what ageing asks—and what it gives back. Real talk, no anti-ageing messages, and no forced positivity.

    And remember - you're not just ageing. You're evolving and deepening and expanding in wisdom, fulfillment, purpose, courage, and joy. You're finding yourself again, one honest moment at a time.

    Penelope Lane is a clinical psychologist, mindfulness teacher, and fitness and brain health trainer who helps women over 60 build whole strength—body, mind, heart, and soul. At 67, she's learned the hard way that staying alive isn't the same as feeling alive.


    Joanne Tapodi Creative

    Joanne Tapodi Creative is a Squarespace website designer and brand expert who creates meaningful brands and intuitive websites for small businesses worldwide. I’m Perth’s leading Squarespace website designer and an Authorised Trainer and Gold Circle Partner in Perth, Australia.

    https://www.joannetapodicreative.com.au
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