As my t-shirt affirms, “I was born in the 90s” – 1994 to be exact, which means that I am twenty-two years old. While so many qualities about us are subjective based on the impressions we give off, our age is a fixed personal trait that just isn’t up for debate. No matter how hard we try to defy this reality, we can’t change time. The clock can’t be sped up, as “fast-forward” isn’t an option, nor can it be slowed down; the fountain of youth that we pray will drench us forever is bound to drain eventually.
Now, I know you’re probably thinking to yourself, “Who is this kid to tell us about aging? He just broke into his early twenties. What does he know about growing older?” It’s true – I’m fairly new to the world of adulthood. But, living between New York and LA, I’ve firsthand witnessed and experienced the undeniable impact that our age can have on so many aspects of life.
Whether at a job interview for a marketing position or at a bar for a glass of wine, there have been countless occasions where I haven’t been taken seriously simply because I’m the youngest person in the room – where I’ve been looked down upon, questioned, and coddled too, time and time again by potential employers and bartenders alike. But I have reached a point in my life where I have no choice but to participate in the same social contexts as people older than me. And as a result, it seems as though I have to work harder to assert my presence to be acknowledged around the 30+ year olds around me.
On the other side of the spectrum, though, I have become more than used to seeing adults older than me in their 40’s, 50’s, and beyond working tirelessly to come across younger than they truly are. On one side of the coast, we’ve got New York’s resident fashion boys almost pushing 50 who just recently finished gallivanting across the city for Fashion Week, desperately trying to relive their young adult years atop the Standard Hotel at Boom Boom Room. And on the other side of the country in glamorous Los Angeles, we mustn’t forget our “ladies who lunch” who have probably consumed as much tuna tartar at Spago as they have Botox in the creases of their skin. Those attempts to come across younger are merely superficial; underneath the facial filler and vanity, our true ages are still in tact.
Not to be pessimistic – that’s not the kind of person I am at all; but the reason I speak from such a blunt perspective is because I too constantly feel caught in the age-obsessed world we live in that pressures us to conform to ageist standards. In our contemporary culture, we – myself included – often feel like we’re too young or too old, like we never hit the mark just right at the point in our lives that we’re at in comparison to the people around us.
While there’s realistically nothing we can do to truly change our age beneath the surface, I’m not suggesting that we millenials should complacently sit and allow those older than we are to view us as immature; there is nothing wrong with asserting our evolving maturity, even as young adults. And in regards to my more mature, seasoned adults out there, in my eyes, aging is not the same as growing old; it’s all in the way we look at it. What I do think ages adults dramatically is when they aggressively try to defy the progression of time, to turn back the clock to feel younger by parading around like teenagers numb in the face. Perhaps we must try and achieve a balance between these two extremes: a middle ground in which we uphold the timeless nature of our spirits while also accepting the inevitable points in our lives that we’ve reached, where we can praise how far we’ve come through the years and proudly refer to the cracks in our skin as “laughter lines” instead of “wrinkles.”
I admit, I too must remind myself to relish this stage in my life and embrace the reality that I am undeniably younger than many people; I have years and years ahead of me to be taken seriously as an experienced “adult.” After all, I stopped using a fake ID just a little over a year ago. Nevertheless, I’m certainly not a naïve “child” anymore either – a misconception that might prompt others to treat me as their inferior, simply for being younger than they are. I realize, however, that those older than I am do in fact have a leg up on me because of the abundance of experiences, knowledge, and wisdom they have under their belts. Age, therefore, shouldn’t necessarily be assessed by the elasticity of our skin or the crows’ feet beside our eyes. Aging transcends what we see in the mirror and serves as a vivid indicator of all that we’ve accomplished and endured in our lives so far.
Right now, my peers and I are toasting to fresh college degrees and exciting new job opportunities. In about a decade, we’ll probably be celebrating our engagements and marriages. And a few years after that, we may even witness our own children doing the same things we did when we were their age, as we then long to be in their shoes once again – and the cycle continues. Until then, I look up to those older than me who have gone through much more than I have at this point. But truth be told, the adults I choose to look up to are those who embrace their age rather than those who strive to defy or conceal that number.
What I’m trying to convey here is that age is not “just a number,” as the cliché goes – and that’s completely alright. In fact, our age is a very significant number that helps us gage where we honestly fit-in in this world – a number that we shouldn’t challenge or be ashamed of, but that we should respect and be proud of. Regardless of whether or not you were born in the 90s, (with or without a t-shirt to prove it), our age is a definite component of our being, innately characteristic to our identities and our experiences. The solid, unwavering nature of age itself might even urge us to become more in touch with our sense of self, to understand the time and space in which we exist. With that in mind, perhaps our inability to turn back the clock or jump forward in time beholds an authentic beauty in itself. Perhaps this reality, that we have no choice but to live in this moment, makes it all the more sensible to honor where we are in the timeline of our lives. Simply put, maybe a reason we can’t change our age is because we shouldn’t.
