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PERSPECTIVE | MAGAZINE

An ageist incident at work made my blood boil. Then I realized something essential.

I needed to believe in my own narrative, not the ones foisted on me by a youth-obsessed society.

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Last year, a few months before turning 50, I cast aside my deep-rooted fears about financial scarcity and jumped off a professional cliff.

One incident that fueled me came, ironically, during a diversity committee meeting at work. I was a creative director — and the oldest person in a room of people in their 20s and 30s. During a conversation about ageism and the value of experience, one person asserted that, in a digital industry, youth was a strength because young people have fresh ideas and an ability to learn new things.

The comment might seem innocuous, but I simmered with rage at the message it implied — that older employees are incapable of being creative and innovative.

Aging is obviously inevitable yet is often positioned as a detriment — something to fight, something to hide. For years, I bristled at anti-aging consumer marketing — the ubiquitous advertisements for skin care and hair dye, for starters — though at some level it felt like a problem with some degrees of separation.

But then age began creeping into more and more conversations, especially with fellow female professionals. I heard talented and accomplished women in their 40s and 50s confess that they did not disclose their age publicly because it was bad for their careers. Others seethed about companies not understanding the value of industry experience and interpersonal skills; things that made these employees “too expensive” compared to, say, just using ChatGPT.

Despite these false narratives, when I hit my breaking point last year, it was the experience afforded by my age that gave me the courage, clarity, and confidence to make a move. I just needed to believe in my own story, not the ones foisted on me by a youth-obsessed society.

Karen Walrond, author of Radiant Rebellion: Reclaim Aging, Practice Joy, and Raise a Little Hell, points to the anti-aging industry as a big part of the problem, because it thrives on stoking our insecurities. “The more we feel bad about aging, the more we spend. And if businesses get us to believe aging is a problem, we’re customers for life,” she says.

Negative narratives aren’t limited to the physical. According to Daniel Levitin, author of Successful Aging: A Neuroscientist Explores the Power and Potential of Our Lives, we are bombarded with the message that memory loss and cognitive impairment are inevitable. “It comes down to the stories we tell ourselves,” he says, adding that when a 70-year-old forgets where they park the car, they may worry it is the result of Alzheimer’s, but when a 20-year-old does the same, they might say they have too much on their plate. “Too many slips may be a problem, but it’s important to remember that these things happen.”

The good news is that there are ways to disrupt ageist narratives, starting with ourselves. “We need to reckon with our internalized ageism and also call it out when we hear it,” says Walrond. She recommends starting by foregoing statements such as “I don’t feel old” that equate age with irrelevance or lack of appeal.

Levitin acknowledges the role of nutrition, exercise, and sleep in healthy aging, but stresses the importance of a sense of purpose, as well. “It can be as simple as caring for a garden and following the seasons, or it can be an interesting job or social activism to make a better community.”

It’s worth noting that tying one’s sense of self solely to work can be problematic. “When that sense of self through work is taken away, it can be detrimental to our long-term psychological and physical outcomes,” says Levitin. He emphasizes the importance of being curious and open to new experiences, as well as stretching beyond your comfort zone and trying new things, which build up cognitive reserves and neural plasticity.

My own leap into the unknown was not without bumps or awkwardness, but the months that followed ended up being a transformative exercise in affirming my worth, becoming highly selective about my next projects, and maintaining confidence that my age and experience are a tremendous asset and not a barrier.

I also found joy in mentoring younger students and professionals, which, I will admit, helped me let go of my ire over that ageist comment in the diversity committee meeting. Indeed, Levitin recommends cross-generational connection. “The best way to combat ageism is to socialize with people of all age groups. Many myths and biases fall away when we find common ground.”

I still love working; but I now view work as part of my life, not all of it. I have found a new sense of purpose in reframing my narrative and approach, prioritizing rest and relationships, rushing less, playing more, embracing experimentation. In short, I feel like an actual, complete human being.

We don’t have control over the passing of time, but we have control over a whole lot else. Let’s make the most of these later decades.

Christine Koh is a former music and brain scientist turned author, podcaster, and creative consultant. You can find her work at christinekoh.com and on Instagram and Facebook at @drchristinekoh. Send comments to magazine@globe.com.