We Belong at the Table
Recently, I found myself in a moment that left me shaking my head, feeling equal parts annoyed and fired up. I was with three wonderful women: smart, funny, vibrant women all in our second half of life. We had made reservations at a lovely restaurant with an enchanting view of a hidden city park. It was the kind of place where you want to linger, catch up on life, and watch the world go by through big windows.
When we arrived, the hostess smiled politely and then led us… past every open table along the windows, around the cozy booths, and straight to the very last table, one right by the server station and close to the swinging kitchen door. It was the “let’s tuck them away back here” seat, the one near clanging dishes and passing waitstaff. We looked at each other and knew in an instant, absolutely not.
We politely asked if we could sit at one of the many empty window tables. The answer? “No, that server isn’t here yet.” Okay, how about the booth one table over? Same answer. We gently pointed out that several tables were wide open by the windows. Again, “The servers aren’t here yet.”
It felt dismissive. It felt like we were an afterthought; four middle-aged women, apparently invisible enough to be sent to the back of the room. One of my friends, Elaine, who happens to frequent this place often, decided she wasn’t having it. She made her way back to the hostess stand, determined to speak up. The person seating us literally tried to race her back, but Elaine’s determination won out.
In the end, we sat exactly where we wanted: by the window, a beautiful summer afternoon streaming through, laughter flowing just as freely as our conversation. And that’s when it really hit me: why are aging women so often treated like we belong out of sight?
Somewhere along the way, society decided that women in the second half of life should quietly fade into the background. We get the leftover tables, the dismissive glances, the assumption that we don’t matter, can’t afford it, or won’t notice. Newsflash: we see it all and we won’t stand for it.
We’ve raised families, built businesses, cared for aging parents, volunteered, showed up, made magic happen and we’re still doing it! We have stories, wisdom, fierce courage, and the means to pay the bill, tip generously, and come back again and again. But we must stand up for ourselves. Again and again. One brave moment at a time.
What society doesn’t seem to realize is that many of us are just getting started. In our 50s, 60s, and beyond, we are rediscovering our passions, our voices, and our power. We know what we want, and we’re less afraid to ask for it.
We’ve learned that taking up space is not rude, it’s essential. Speaking up when something doesn’t feel right is not pushy, it’s self-respect. And insisting on being treated with dignity is not “too much” it’s non-negotiable.
We matter just as much as the trendy young couple who might post a TikTok of their cocktail, the big group of businessmen in suits, or the cute family with children in tow. We deserve the same level of service, the same seat with the best view, and the same respect.
When we find our voice and use it, we show the world how we expect to be treated and how we will treat ourselves. When we stand up for our place by the window, we’re not just advocating for us, we’re sending a ripple out to every other woman watching, reminding her: you deserve to be seen and you deserve to be heard.
So here’s to my brave friends, to Elaine for not backing down, and to every woman who’s ever been politely shuffled to the back of the room and decided, Nope. Not today.
Consider this your permission slip. You do not belong by the kitchen door. You belong where you feel seen, honored, and alive. Next time life tries to seat you at the back, whether literally or metaphorically, speak up. Ask for the window seat. Take up space. Take your time, because we belong at the table with a view. We are aging beautifully, bravely, and boldly and we refuse to be ignored.
xo Sheryl
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