It’s something we have always heard since we were young, but what does it even mean in modern times?

Following on from my previous post, We’re in this together, in which I get mad at intergenerational arguing, I started to think about that thing we always get told to do: act your age.

There was a time when that meant that you should be doing and saying things that are appropriate to your age. Wearing a short skirt over 35 years old? Don’t you dare! Learning to dance at 60? A waste of time! Playing video games at 85? You should be knitting!

This is now all utter bullshit.

No longer do we act our age, because age means diddly SQUAT. There are women being their most fabulous selves in their older ages whom I greatly admire. There’s Heidi (pictured right), one of my favourite TikTokers whom I definitely aspire to emulate as I grow older (IF I am lucky to grow older), with her insightful thoughts, championing of doing life differently, and incredible sense of and experimentation with style. There’s TacticalGramma, a bad-ass older female gamer who knows how to put rude gamers, mainly men, in their place and kick their ass in MMOs. There are plenty of people, men and women, doing what they feel like doing at any age. It also goes the opposite way: many young people are turning to crafts that are usually labeled as “old people” crafts, like knitting and crocheting, because they are relaxing, fun and satisfying, especially when you have something handmade by you!

I am 37. I play video games. I indulge in adult colouring books. I reread YA novels that I enjoyed 20 years ago and read ones I never got a chance to. I like cross stitch. For myself and many, we like to indulge in things that remind us of a more peaceful time, things we never got the chance to do, and things that give us a mental break from the trials and tribulations of reality. Moreover, now that less people are marrying and/or having children, we have more time and mental space to enjoy ourselves, something sorely needed when society seems to be on the brink of collapse.

Do what makes you happy, not what others think you should be doing.