Let’s Not Get Old

a plea to my fellow millennials

Jul 31, 2024

Earlier this year, when I was back home visiting my dad, the topic of Gen Z culture came up. In his line of work, my dad interacts with a lot of young people—and he admitted to feeling the generational divide; that it was affecting his ability to do his job well. Neither my husband nor I are Gen Z, but we are both chronically online—so to the best of our abilities, we explained things like microaggressions and the heightened anxiety that today’s 20-somethings feel and exude. It was, I think, a productive conversation; he appreciated our perspective, and I appreciated the fact that he’s proactively attempting to connect with and understand people three generations removed. I don’t see many others (and especially not many other white men in positions of power) doing the same—to the detriment of, well, *gestures at all of society.*

As a 41-year-old who works in social media, I often find myself acting as an intergenerational translator, explaining terms to friends who are not glued to their phones. Moreover, my business partner is 7 years my junior, my husband is 3 years younger than me, and our son is in preschool—so people tend to assume I’m younger than I am, and I’m very often the oldest person in the room. In my twenties, when I was an actress in Hollywood, that last bit would have horrified me—and for most of my thirties, I worried that I would miss my window to be a mom. Now that both of those phases are behind me, the immense anxiety I once felt around my age has faded. I can’t say it’s gone completely, of course; I’m still a woman operating within the confines of modern society. I still take measures to lessen signs of my physical advancement. But now, when I reveal my age and someone responds with surprise, I don’t spiral. I just kinda laugh.

In a group chat I’m in with some close friends, we frequently talk about aging. We share skincare recommendations and Millennial throwbacks; memes making fun of how old and lame we are. With these friends I also frequently discuss politics—and, in a related way, our evolving relationships with our Boomer parents.

On the big-picture political issues, my family and I all agree. I’m thankful for that, as I know many can’t say the same. But although we’re all on the same side, there are fault lines. There are topics I prefer not to discuss with certain family members, and of course they come up anyway, and of course the conversation devolves into an argument that I relay to the aforementioned chat.

Ugh, one friend will write back. It’s the same over here.

Yep. You should have heard my mom…

They’re so out of touch.

I hope I’m never like that.

It’s like they refuse to learn anything new.

Seriously. I don’t want to get old.

Let’s promise to not get old.

This particular chat is one of my few same-age spaces. We were all born within the same year, and we’re now part of a phenomenon that has been widely discussed and dissected by major publications like Newsweek and Vogue: We’re old Millennials who look and seem younger than we are.

The Internet is filled with anecdotes and speculation around this idea that my generation is aging at a slower pace than the ones who came before. Popular theories as to why include:

Less smoking (sure, probably)
More SPF (not where I come from)
Preventative “tweakments” like Botox and filler (yes, most definitely)
Stunted maturity and an inability to grow up (okay, rude)
Collective pushback against the patriarchy (???)
A more urban, health- and image-conscious lifestyle (hmm, this feels warmer…)

Here’s what I think: If Millennials are in fact aging—physically, emotionally, culturally—more slowly than older generations, it’s likely due to a combination of factors from the list above plus something I’m surprised isn’t mentioned more in the conversation, especially since it’s where this theory originated in the first place: social media.

As part of the class of 2005, my friends and I were among the first people to be on Facebook—back when it was called The Facebook, and you needed to have an email address from an approved university to create an account. And yes, sure, we were on MySpace before that—but I think we can agree that Facebook marked the beginning of social media as we know it today. My peers and I were the original early adopters, and we’ve more or less been online since. And while I have plenty to say about its negative effects, a big benefit of social media is how it connects us with millions of people in different places and stages of life and demographics. And so, as my generation aged out of being the cool kids—transforming into moms and managers and ma’ams—we had the unprecedented opportunity to remain privy (via social media) to what the cool kids are into.

My friends and I follow Gen Z influencers. We watch TikToks explaining the slang and trends and grievances of high school kids. We’re familiar with their celebrities and brands and habits—and sure, we frequently make fun of them, but the point is that we know what they are. We have access to the lives of younger people in a way that was unavailable to older generations as they went through the same midlife transition. Previously, if a 41-year-old wanted to know what the average 23-year-old thought about a social issue, or where they bought their underwear, they had to rely on a potentially inaccurate or outdated piece of reporting, or (worse) physically seek someone out. All I have to do is open an app on my phone. It takes five seconds, and I’m getting my information directly from the source.

It’s never been easier to stay young, culturally speaking; to maintain the same spending habits we did in our twenties, because we’ve put off major financial milestones like home ownership and kids (whether or not that’s a choice is a different conversation) and also because we’re still online. We’re still plugged into the latest trends, and so we still feel compelled to follow them (for better or for worse, but I’m trying to stay focused on the positive here.) When I see reports on consumer behavior, Millennials and Gen Z are more often than not lumped together. We share common behaviors; speak a common language. We tease one another, sure—but at the end of the day, I think the two generations have a certain sibling camaraderie that will serve us well as we navigate an uncertain future that our elders are, frankly, not as invested in. (Whoops, that wasn’t positive.)

I’m not saying that Millennials are still young and cool. We’re decidedly not, and I’m reminded of that every time I scroll, and I’m perfectly okay with it. Attempting to emulate youth culture past our own youth quickly tips into cringe territory à la Mrs. George. I’m just saying, we benefit from a prolonged connection to (and perhaps even immersion in) what is young and cool, whether we prescribe to it or not. And I think, when used correctly, we can use that for good. We can use it as digital battle armor against one of the more unsavory aspects of aging—that arrogant “kids these days” attitude of the narrow-minded and out-of-touch.

I’m also not saying we should spend more time on social media. That would be insane. I’m just saying, while we’re there, we could stand to borrow a page from the content creator class we created (!!) and implement our own social media strategy—one that includes periodically checking in with the youngs, to see how they’re feeling and speaking and dressing and why. It would certainly be a more productive use of our screen time than shopping, especially as The Great Exhaustion looms.

While social media can (and does) stoke a swarm of negative human traits, it can also foster one of the best—empathy. Unlike previous generations, we don’t need to let our mounting obligations and stressors make us insular. We have the tools to stay young in our pockets, at our fingertips. And hey, if we pick up some good skincare recommendations while we’re at it, that’s cool, too.

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