Last week at the coffee shop, I watched a young woman apologize three times for asking the barista to remake her incorrectly prepared latte. She looked mortified, as if she’d committed some grave social sin. Meanwhile, the 75-year-old gentleman behind her sent his eggs back at breakfast without a hint of hesitation or a single “sorry.”

That got me thinking about how age changes our relationship with apologies. After spending time with friends in their seventies and eighties, I’ve noticed they’ve stopped apologizing for things that would have younger folks breaking out in a cold sweat. There’s something liberating about watching people who’ve finally given themselves permission to just… be.

1. Taking naps whenever they feel like it

When I first retired at 62, I’d sneak upstairs for afternoon naps like a teenager hiding cigarettes. If someone called during my siesta, I’d pretend I was “just resting my eyes” or “reading.” The guilt was ridiculous.

Now? I announce my daily 2 PM nap like it’s a board meeting nobody better interrupt. People over 70 have discovered what Mediterranean cultures knew all along: naps aren’t lazy, they’re life-giving. Yet my younger friends still treat daytime sleep like they’re stealing from their employer, even on weekends.

2. Having strong opinions about everything

You know what’s exhausting? Prefacing every opinion with “I could be wrong, but…” or “This is just my personal view, however…” Seventy-somethings have largely abandoned these verbal cushions. They think pineapple on pizza is an abomination? They’ll tell you. They believe modern music sounds like construction equipment? You’ll hear about it.

Younger people often mistake this for rudeness. It’s not. It’s the freedom of knowing your opinions don’t need committee approval.

3. Saying no to social obligations they don’t want

“I don’t want to” becomes a complete sentence somewhere around age 72. No elaborate excuses about fictional illnesses or scheduling conflicts. Just a simple, guilt-free “no thanks” to that wedding of your coworker’s cousin or the neighborhood potluck you’d rather skip.

Watch anyone under 50 decline an invitation. They’ll craft an elaborate story worthy of a Netflix series. “I’d love to, but my partner’s sister’s dog has anxiety and we promised to babysit that exact evening…” Just say no. The world won’t end.

4. Their appearance when running errands

My friend’s 73-year-old mother goes to the grocery store in her house slippers and her late husband’s flannel shirt. She couldn’t care less. Meanwhile, millennials agonize over whether their athleisure is actually athletic enough for Target.

There’s profound freedom in realizing the teenager at the checkout counter isn’t mentally cataloging your fashion choices for their memoir. Nobody cares that your socks don’t match or that you’re buying ice cream in your pajama pants at noon.

5. Asking for help

Here’s something wild: older people ask for help without the twenty-minute preamble about how they “normally never do this” and “hate to be a bother.” They need someone to reach the top shelf? They ask. They don’t understand the new parking app? They flag down someone who looks competent.

Younger generations treat asking for help like they’re admitting to a crime. The mental gymnastics we go through to avoid appearing incompetent or needy would qualify as an Olympic sport.

6. Having a small social circle

Remember when having plans every weekend was a personality trait? People over 70 have discovered what really matters: three good friends beat thirty acquaintances every time. They’ve stopped apologizing for not keeping in touch with their college roommate’s ex-boyfriend’s sister.

I’ve winnowed my own circle down considerably, and the relief is palpable. Quality over quantity isn’t just a cliché. It’s a survival strategy for your sanity.

7. Their boundaries with family

“Because we’re family” stops being a valid reason to tolerate nonsense somewhere in your seventh decade. Older folks will skip Thanksgiving if Uncle Jerry can’t behave. They’ll tell their adult children when they’re being ridiculous. They’ve learned that DNA isn’t a binding contract for unlimited patience.

Younger people? They’ll endure years of toxic family dynamics because “blood is thicker than water” or some other phrase that sounds meaningful but really just enables bad behavior.

8. Enjoying “lowbrow” pleasures

My 76-year-old neighbor watches reality TV with the enthusiasm of a sports fan during playoffs. She doesn’t pretend she’s watching it “ironically” or as a “guilty pleasure.” She just likes it. Period.

Compare this to younger folks who need to intellectualize every entertainment choice. Can’t just enjoy a romance novel – has to be “examining genre conventions.” Can’t just like pop music – has to be “appreciating the production values.” Just like what you like. The culture police aren’t coming for you.

9. Their life choices and paths taken

“I should have…” becomes “I chose to…” after 70. They stop apologizing for not becoming doctors, for having kids young (or not at all), for that decade they spent finding themselves, for the marriage that didn’t work out.

Younger people carry their choices like albatrosses, constantly explaining and justifying. As if there’s some cosmic scorekeeper tracking whether you made the “right” decisions. Spoiler alert: there isn’t.

10. Being politically incorrect sometimes

Now, I’m not talking about being hateful or discriminatory. But people over 70 have largely stopped panic-checking every sentence for potential offense. They’ll call something stupid if it’s stupid. They’ll admit they don’t understand something without fearing they’ll be branded ignorant forever.

They’ve learned the difference between being thoughtfully respectful and walking on conversational eggshells. It’s a distinction younger generations are still navigating, often apologizing for thoughts they haven’t even fully expressed yet.

Final thoughts

The common thread here isn’t that older people have stopped caring about others. They’ve just stopped caring about the imaginary jury we all think is constantly evaluating our every move. They’ve realized that most people are too busy worrying about their own stuff to judge yours.

Maybe we don’t need to wait until 70 to stop apologizing for being human. The permission slip we’re waiting for? We can write it ourselves.