The Digital Magazine

There’s a daily ritual a surprising number of midlife women talk about, and a surprising number don’t admit to. The New York Times games have found their way into morning routines across the country, somewhere between the first cup of coffee and the official start of the day.

We’re sold on the idea that we need protein, weight-bearing exercise, to walk more, more fiber; there’s a list. And on that list, somewhere between don’t skip your annual mammogram and wear supportive shoes is keeping our brains sharp.

Nobody is entirely sure where they heard this was a good thing. A podcast, maybe, or something a doctor mentioned in passing. Somewhere along the way, the idea that word games are good for your brain became the kind of thing women in this life stage believe. Women in mavenhood are paying attention to their brains in a way they weren’t ten years ago. Whether the science fully backs it up is almost beside the point. The habit is already set. And then, almost perfectly timed, came a suite of free daily games that feel like mental exercise and take less than ten minutes.

Nobody posts a screenshot of finishing their fiber supplement. A Wordle solve in two is a whole other thing. These small victories, a Connections solved without any mistakes, a Mini completed in 20 seconds, have become a source of bragging rights for women who have long since outgrown report cards, standardized tests, and performance reviews. For a few minutes each morning, there’s a puzzle to solve, a score to compare, and occasionally, a reason to let the group chat know exactly how well things went.

There’s also that little thrill of feeling keyed in before the day starts. You start the day winning, at least in your mind. Yesterday’s time is a personal best waiting to be broken. At a stage of life when brain fog is a real and regular conversation, finishing the Spelling Bee at Genius level is its own form of reassurance. This is working. For a few minutes each day, there’s a problem with a solution.

The games have become a kind of ad-hoc membership card. Mention Wordle, Connections, Strands, or the Mini in the right company and chances are someone nearby recognizes you as a player. There are favorite games, least favorite categories, and most women have at least one story about a puzzle they couldn’t believe they missed. No preparation required.

On a recent road trip, while waiting for a food order at a roadside stand, one friend turned to another and asked, “Did you get the Wordle today?” This started a familiar conversation. What was the word? How many guesses did you get it in? Within a minute, another woman in line had jumped into this conversation with, “Are you talking about Wordle? I play every day.”

Another reason these games have caught on: multiple choice. Most of what women deal with in mavenhood doesn’t come with ready made answers. Which long term health care plan is the best? Should I get a second opinion on HRT? These aren’t nearly as cut and dried as: play this, help your brain.

These NYT puzzles, by contrast, are refreshingly straightforward. There is an answer. The Connections categories eventually reveal themselves, even if one of them turns out to be infuriating.

The lure of the daily puzzles is their nearly unicorn status: things that feel good and might be good for you, take ten minutes, have a clear beginning and end, offer some level of choice, and give you something to talk about. The New York Times stumbled on something in the middle of a pandemic. Women in mavenhood found it, and kept it.