Thursday, November 20, 2925
I’ve been thinking about what it means to be in my mid-80s—healthy, clear-minded, deeply involved in daily life—and how strange and surprising this stage feels compared to what I imagined many years ago.
The truth is, I never pictured myself “here.” Growing up, I didn’t know a single person in their 80s who was still vibrant, working, and engaged. Most older people I saw (even in their 60s) were frail or withdrawn, already living in the narrow, expected lane that society has quietly painted for “seniors.”
But today’s medicine has changed dramatically. So has nutrition, lifestyle science, and our understanding of the mind. Something new is happening: people are living longer and staying healthier. We’re extending not just lifespan, but healthspan. And those of us who find ourselves active and well in our 80s are, in a way, pioneers. We’re the first generation who must learn how to inhabit this expanded stage of life—because there is no blueprint yet.
The Question I Keep Getting
In my retail work, where I interact with countless customers, I am asked about my age more than ever. And I don’t answer. Not because I’m ashamed—far from it—but because the question usually comes with something else: an immediate rush of unsolicited expectations.
People seem eager to explain what they think someone my age should be doing. Resting. Retiring. Slowing down. Disappearing from the working world.
What they’re really telling me is that they can’t imagine being my age any more than I once could. They’re trying to match the person they see—present, engaged, competent, and curious—with the outdated stereotype of an “elder” that they still carry. That mismatch unsettles them, and age questions become a way to resolve the puzzle.
I’ve come to understand this as a soft, reflexive form of ageism. Not cruel or intentional—just unexamined. A product of our culture’s old mental images about aging, images that many people haven’t updated yet.
A Quiet but Powerful Shift
But here’s the interesting part: every time someone encounters a healthy, active, eighty-something, their internal map of aging shifts—just a little. They’re being stretched into acknowledging a new possibility: that older age can look very different from the images they grew up with.
When I decline to answer age questions, I’m setting a boundary, but I’m also doing something else. I’m reminding people that age is neither a credential nor a limitation. My value—in work, in conversation, in life—comes from who I am right now, not the number attached to my birth year.
What Comes Next
Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how many people around my age are experiencing these same shifts, these same mismatches between who we are and how the world imagines us. Our generation is living through an evolution that society hasn’t fully named.
There’s a bigger conversation to be had about aging today—about identity, purpose, mental and physical vitality, boundaries, curiosity, and what it means to live longer and healthier than we ever expected.
That conversation is brewing inside me. Perhaps it will grow into something more structured—a regular discussion, a gathering, a community space for people in their seventies and eighties to share experiences and observations. Perhaps it will simply unfold one piece at a time.
For now, this is just the beginning.
And I’m curious where it will lead.
— Diana
Diana's Morning Blog 