I did a happy dance in the Publix parking lot yesterday. Full-on arms-waving, hip-shaking, don’t-care-who’s-watching celebration. Why? Because I parallel parked on the first try. At 61, after decades of doing seventeen-point turns to avoid parallel parking, I nailed it. One smooth motion. Perfect distance from the curb.
The woman loading groceries next to me looked concerned. “You okay, honey?” I laughed. “I just parallel parked!” She looked at the space, looked at me, and said, “Well damn, that IS worth celebrating!” Then she high-fived me. Two middle-aged women celebrating parking in a grocery store lot. This is what victory looks like after 50.
If you think celebrating parallel parking is ridiculous, you’re missing the point. After decades of minimizing our accomplishments, dismissing our progress, and waiting for “real” success to celebrate, we’ve forgotten something crucial: Small wins are still wins. And at midlife, they might be the most important wins of all.
Why We Stopped Celebrating (And Why That’s Killing Us)
Somewhere between 30 and 50, celebration became conditional:
- I’ll celebrate when I lose all the weight (not just 5 pounds)
- I’ll celebrate when I get the promotion (not just positive feedback)
- I’ll celebrate when the kids graduate (not just surviving another semester)
- I’ll celebrate when we retire (not just making it through another year)
- I’ll celebrate when everything’s perfect (so… never)
We became achievement anorexics, starving ourselves of recognition, always hungry for the “real” success that never quite arrives. Meanwhile, we’re accomplishing miracles daily and treating them like participation trophies.
Last month, I kept a “wins I dismissed” list:
- Figured out new phone without calling my son (dismissed as “about time”)
- Walked every day for a week (dismissed as “should do more”)
- Finished difficult project (dismissed as “just doing my job”)
- Had hard conversation with friend (dismissed as “should’ve done sooner”)
- Made doctor appointment I’d been avoiding (dismissed as “basic adulting”)
Twenty-three wins in one month. Twenty-three times I succeeded at something and immediately minimized it. No wonder I felt like I was failing at life.
The Day Curtis Taught Me About Small Wins
During his recovery, Curtis celebrated everything. And I mean everything. Walked to the mailbox? Victory lap. Showered alone? Announcement to the neighborhood. Made his own sandwich? You’d think he’d won the lottery.
At first, it annoyed me. “It’s just a sandwich, Curtis.” He looked at me seriously. “Six weeks ago, I couldn’t hold a knife. Today I made a sandwich. That’s not ‘just’ anything.”
He was right. I was so focused on him getting “back to normal” that I missed the hundred victories between hospital bed and normal life. Each small win was a stepping stone. Without celebrating them, the journey felt endless. With celebration, each day had victory in it.
That’s when I started my own small wins practice. If a man who nearly died could celebrate making a sandwich, I could celebrate parallel parking.
The Science of Why Small Wins Matter More at Midlife
Your brain doesn’t distinguish between big and small wins when releasing dopamine. Those feel-good chemicals flow whether you win the lottery or finally remember your password without hints.
But here’s the midlife twist: Our brains are wired for negativity bias, and it gets worse with age. We literally need more positive input to balance the negative. Small wins are that input. They’re the antidote to the “everything’s falling apart” narrative our aging brains love to spin.
Plus, at midlife:
- Big wins are rarer (fewer promotions, milestones)
- Challenges are constant (aging parents, bodies, everything)
- Progress is slower (everything takes longer now)
- Motivation needs more fuel (the tank empties faster)
Small wins aren’t consolation prizes. They’re survival tools.
My Current Small Wins Celebration List
Here’s what I’m celebrating this week (judge away, I don’t care):
Monday: Remembered my Amazon password without reset link
Tuesday: Did NOT eat entire sleeve of Oreos (ate half, that’s progress)
Wednesday: Called insurance company (only cried once)
Thursday: Painted something that vaguely resembles intended subject
Friday: Parallel parked (obviously)
Saturday: Understood granddaughter’s TikTok reference
Sunday: Made it through church without hot flash
Are these earth-shattering accomplishments? No. Are they wins? Absolutely. Each one required effort, courage, or growth. That deserves recognition.
How to Start Your Small Wins Practice
Step 1: Lower the bar to the floor
Seriously. The bar is too high. Put it on the ground. Stepping over it counts as a win.
Step 2: Write them down
Like my gratitude practice, but for accomplishments. “Today I…” followed by what you did. No minimizing allowed.
Step 3: Tell someone
Text a friend. Tell your partner. Post it online. Say it out loud. Wins said out loud are twice as powerful as wins kept secret.
Step 4: Physical celebration
Fist pump. Happy dance. Victory lap. Your body needs to feel the win, not just your brain.
Step 5: No “but” allowed
“I walked today BUT only for 10 minutes” – NO. “I walked today.” Period. Full stop. That’s the win.
Small Wins That Changed My Life
Looking back, my life wasn’t changed by big dramatic moments. It was changed by small wins that compounded:
First painting that wasn’t terrible → Now selling art
One blog post → Built entire website
Five-minute meditation → Daily practice that saved my sanity
One difficult conversation → Transformed relationship
Walking to mailbox → Now hiking trails
Saying no once → Boundaries everywhere
Each small win made the next one possible. Without celebrating the first terrible painting, I’d never have tried a second.
The Unexpected Side Effects of Celebrating Small Wins
Momentum builds: Celebrating walking 5 minutes makes 10 minutes feel possible. Celebrating 10 makes 15 feel doable. Before you know it, you’re that annoying person posting about their 5K.
Perfectionism dies: When “good enough” gets celebrated, perfect becomes irrelevant. My fear of imperfection lost its power.
Joy increases: Multiple celebrations daily means multiple hits of joy. It adds up. Life feels lighter even when circumstances haven’t changed.
Others notice: When you celebrate yourself, others start celebrating you too. It’s contagious. My family now announces their small wins at dinner.
Progress becomes visible: That list of small wins? It’s proof you’re moving forward even when it feels like you’re stuck.
Common Objections (And Why They’re BS)
“It feels like participation trophy culture”
No. Participation is showing up. Wins are doing something. Even small something is something.
“I don’t want to be that person”
What person? Happy? Accomplished? Self-aware? Yeah, terrible things to be.
“It’s embarrassing”
More embarrassing than living your whole life without acknowledging your successes?
“People will think I’m bragging”
People who matter will celebrate with you. People who don’t, don’t matter.
“These aren’t real accomplishments”
Says who? The accomplishment police? They don’t exist. You decide what counts.
Your Small Wins Challenge
For one week, celebrate three small wins daily:
- Morning win (anything before noon)
- Afternoon win (anything before 5 PM)
- Evening win (anything before bed)
Write them down. Share one with someone. Do a physical celebration for at least one.
Watch what happens. Watch how your brain starts hunting for wins instead of failures. Watch how your day feels different when punctuated by victory. Watch how small wins become bigger wins become life changes.
P.S. – Update: Curtis just successfully programmed the new TV remote. He’s doing a victory dance in the living room. I’m joining him. Two 60-somethings dancing about a remote control. The dog thinks we’ve lost our minds. Maybe we have. But we’ve found our joy. And yes, programming remotes absolutely counts as a win after 60. If you know, you know.
