As another birthday approaches, I’ve been thinking about a question that comes up far more often than it should: How old are you?
I find it interesting not because age is a secret but because it’s such a shallow place to begin when there are countless richer questions one could ask about a human being. When age becomes the first point of curiosity or topic of conversation it often reveals more about the person asking than the person answering.
What I’ve noticed over time is that this question most often comes from people who are not asking out of being genuine there’s often something else underneath it: comparison.
Here’s the honest part, stated plainly and without arrogance because it’s simply reality. I look younger than many of the people who ask. In many cases, I look noticeably better, sexier and prettier than people who are much younger than I am ~ in person AND with/without filters and photography.
That isn’t something I engineered to prove a point, and it’s not something I say to elevate myself over others. It’s just how things worked out. Genetics, lifestyle, self-care, resilience, and lived experience all play their roles.
When someone asks about age especially after already forming assumptions it can feel less like curiosity and more like an attempt to recalibrate the hierarchy in their mind. Almost as if knowing someone’s number might restore a sense of balance they momentarily lost. If they can place me into an “older” category, perhaps they can feel more secure about themselves.
That’s why the question sometimes feels loaded. Not because age is negative, but because youth is often treated as currency and when someone older doesn’t visually or energetically conform to the expectations attached to that number, it unsettles people who rely on age as a measure of their own worth.
What’s most revealing, though, is what isn’t asked.
Rarely does the curiosity extend to deeper questions, questions that require depth the depth that requires seeing someone as more than a comparison point. Age is easy. It’s a shortcut. A way to categorize instead of connect. I’ve learned that when someone leads with age, they’re often navigating their own insecurities, timelines, or assumptions. And when someone leads with genuine interest in who someone is they show a different level of confidence one that doesn’t need to measure itself against others.
So when I’m asked how old I am now, I don’t take offense. I take note. Because the question is rarely about me and the answer was never the most interesting thing about me anyway.
