I did a double take at the photo registering my slightly chubby cheeks and flawless skin. I tripped out. This couldn’t be me. How had I aged so much in just a few short years?I took in my old Rayban glasses and that steely look in my eye. What had gone wrong? Where was that bright-eyed girl with determination in her face?   If you tell anyone you’re aging in your 30s they will make fun of you. They’ll tell you you have yet to see what real aging looks like and crack a joke or two at your expense. And yet, regardless of their comments, I have felt it. In the last five years or so I have felt a change in my body and how it handles things. Feats I used to manage effortlessly now require active motivation and long rest periods: having more than two coffees, running over 2k, eating to my heart’s content. There are things I cannot do anymore without paying the price. It’s humbling to admit it, but it’s the truth.  

The other day I was talking to a friend of mine about the cystic acne that has sprouted all over my chin. We brainstormed different beauty techniques to get rid of it and she recommended I switch to a retinol cream. “Retinol cream? Isn’t that something for old people?” I asked. She laughed and we shared a look, the unsaid thought being we are the old people. I know that 30 is the new 20 and that age is but a number, but still it’s weirding me out that all of a sudden my body demands that I be careful. That I can’t just stay up all night and party till dawn and wake up the next morning as if nothing happened.  And it’s not just me, everyone I know has suffered a similar fate. From those that have to rehab their various injuries in physio to those that have developed severe IBS, there is clearly a downwards trajectory starting 25.I know that this is just the beginning of it, but it blows my mind that aging starts this young. That we are not young forever.

But what is this obsession with aging anyways? Why do we care that we are getting older? Why isn’t aging something we are proud of, showing off the crow’s feet and scars as if they’re a part of our journey (which they are)? Why is aging shameful?

I guess if I had to be honest, I would say we have been brainwashed by the beauty industry. Being constantly surrounded with images of young people in magazines, via Instagram and Tik Tok and on all media platforms, has gotten us to see ourselves as less than. The beauty industry’s obsession with youth has permeated our thoughts and minds and gotten us to judge ourselves like we imagine others judge us. The other day I had a convo with some friends about plastic surgery and all of the people my age that have started getting baby botox. Apparently half the influencers on Instagram and Tiktok now have botox and a growing number are signing up for it. How is it okay for 20 year olds to inject poison into their face, as if it’s a vitamin? Why is no one stopping them?

If I’m being honest with you, aging has gotten to me. I mourn the days I used to be able to eat anything, sleep at any time and feel fine about it. I am not aging gracefully. Every time I reach another bodily limitation I cry in protest. My mother and I joke about my growing number of white hairs and how one day she is going to colour them for me. I object, but inside I somewhat agree with her. Is this a dissatisfaction with where we are in life? Or where we think we should be?

 Part of aging is this belief that we have to have reached a certain milestone. I remember being in my teens and thinking that by 30 I would have a partner and live on my own and maybe even have kids. Aging is not just a physical thing, but something intangible as well. If you have crossed enough milestones off the aging list, you all of a sudden feel older, even if you are nowhere near “old”. One of my best friends just had her second baby. She is 30. In a conversation with her about aging she underlined how harrowing it feels like to have given up her 20s to motherhood. “I’ve had two kids, the least I could do is be 30.” She lived a completely different lifestyle early on and is just now waking up to see what her 30s have in store for her. It bereaved me to tell her that you can’t get back the time you missed out on. That a certain amount of bodily prowess deserts you.

But in its own way aging is beautiful. It is beautiful to know that you are not doing things for the first time anymore. Aging in your 30s is exciting, because it’s not the first time you’re going through a breakup, it’s not the first time you are changing jobs, it’s not the first time you are moving cities. Aging in your 30s comes with some experience, so your experiences get to be richer by default. At least I hope they do.You know that saying “Your 30s are like your 20s but with money” I certainly hope that’s true. If nothing else, at least aging comes with less FOMO.

What do you think? Do you feel you are getting older? Do you actively war against aging? What is your secret to feeling young?

Agelessly yours,

Girl With One Earring