This is 56-and-a-Half: "Radiant Rebellion" Author Karen Walrond Responds to The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire
"I don’t know that I feel 'old,' or 'young,' but I will say that I feel relatively healthy, and as curious, powerful, visible, and relevant as ever, and leave it at that."
From the time I was 10, I’ve been obsessed with what it means to grow older. I’m curious about what it means to others, of all ages, and so I invite them to take “The Oldster Magazine Questionnaire.”
Here, author, leadership coach, activist, and attorney Karen Walrond responds. -Sari Botton
Karen Walrond is the author of Radiant Rebellion: Reclaim Aging, Practice Joy & Raise a Little Hell, an investigation in how we can resist ageism and live a gratifying, meaningful life along the way. She is also the author of The Lightmaker's Manifesto: How to Work for Change Without Losing Your Joy, which beckons readers towards lives of integrity, advocacy, conviction and joy. A leadership coach, activist and attorney, Walrond's writing and coaching have helped thousands of people around the world find meaning and purpose in their lives. By exploring the ways in which our assumptions might be made on false premises, Walrond shows us how we can tap into the lessons of past successes to create futures full of light.
—
How old are you?
I’m 56-1/2. (Remember when we were little and we always added the fractions to our ages when folks asked us how old we were? I miss that.) I celebrate my birthday in July.
Is there another age you associate with yourself in your mind? If so, what is it? And why, do you think?
I don’t really associate myself with any other age. Last year on my birthday, a friend asked me how I felt turning 56. I remember responding, “I’ve never been 56 before, so I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know.”
This might sound cliché, but I think associating myself with any other age does me a disservice, no matter what age I choose. Associating myself with a younger age feels, in some ways, like erasing all the experiences that I’ve had as I’ve gotten older, and the wisdom that came with those experiences. Conversely, associating myself with an older age feels like skipping all the potential gifts of the coming years.
So far, 56 has been lovely, so I claim it without reservation.
I think associating myself with any other age does me a disservice, no matter what age I choose. Associating myself with a younger age feels, in some ways, like erasing all the experiences that I’ve had as I’ve gotten older, and the wisdom that came with those experiences. Conversely, associating myself with an older age feels like skipping all the potential gifts of the coming years.
Do you feel old for your age? Young for your age? Just right? Are you in step with your peers?
When I was interviewing folks for Radiant Rebellion, I was lucky enough to interview the luminescent anti-ageism activist, Ashton Applewhite. I have to admit, I went into the interview smugly believing that I harbored no internalized ageism, like I was somehow immune to the effects of being steeped in ageist thinking since birth (as, indeed, we all are). So when I asked her, “What sorts of things do you often hear people say that show internalized ageism?” I had no idea she was about to call me out.
“Well,” she said, “I hear it in the way people use the words ‘young’ and ‘old,’ Like, people say all the time, ‘I don’t feel old.’”
I have to admit I was confused. “I say that all the time. I don’t feel old. Why is that bad?”
“Well,” she said gently. “I suspect when you say that, you’re saying ‘I don’t feel invisible. Or irrelevant. Or unsexy.’ And I don’t know about you, but I had spells of feeling invisible, irrelevant, or unsexy when I was 13. Those aren’t age-related terms. We use ‘old’ as shorthand for ‘bad,’ and ‘young’ as shorthand for ‘good,’ and we don’t even realize we’re doing it.”
This. Blew. My. Mind. Since that conversation, I’ve tried to be really aware of my own language, careful to not slip into ageist talk. So now, when I’m asked, “Do you feel old or young for your age?” it’s a complicated question to answer. I don’t know that I feel “old,” or “young,” but I will say that I feel relatively healthy, and as curious, powerful, visible, and relevant as ever, and leave it at that. 😊
As far as whether I’m in step with my peers: again, I’m not sure, especially since we all – all of us – age at different rates. I do know that I have friends who are younger than I am who are dealing with age-related ailments that I don’t yet have to deal with. I also have friends who are around my age or older who are just starting out with new ventures: some are going back to university, some are becoming writers, and one is even producing a Broadway play. Others are far more successful in their careers than I am. So, I don’t know that I’m “in step” with my peers, but I do know that I keep on steppin’!
What do you like about being your age?
Gosh, so much. I love feeling more confident, and caring less what people think. (And while my caring less definitely includes being unconcerned about the male gaze, I do love that when it happens, I notice there’s more and more appreciation and less and less objectification.) I love making my own rules, from my career to how I’m going to dress, and everything in-between. I love having an adult kid, and the way our relationship continues to evolve. I love being an “open-nester,” with just my partner and me at home, like it used to be when we first married. I love hanging out with younger people, so I can bask in all their potential, and I love hanging out with older people so I can bask in all their wisdom.
Seriously, there’s just so much to love.
I love hanging out with younger people, so I can bask in all their potential, and I love hanging out with older people so I can bask in all their wisdom.
What is difficult about being your age?
I still grapple with my changing body – not so much my looks, because I am enjoying the evolution of my face – but more the way that my body takes longer to recover after a strenuous workout or holds on to unwanted weight with more stubbornness than it used to. Backaches are more frequent. A glass of wine affects me more. Hot flashes are annoying. And the fact that there is so little grounded and reliable information about the changes that happen to your body as you get older is truly frustrating.
I’m very aware that all these changes are simply the continuing evolution of my body – as it’s been doing with every age I’ve been – so I try to give myself grace and stay in curiosity. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that sometimes the changes confound me.
What is surprising about being your age, or different from what you expected, based on what you were told?
In Radiant Rebellion, I tell a story of catching my reflection in the mirror: my family had lost our home and everything in it to Hurricane Harvey fifteen months earlier, and the following year had been a whirlwind of rebuilding, literally from the ground up. As I looked at my reflection in that moment, my immediate instinct was to think, My God, I’ve aged. But then I took a closer look and realized that the changes I was seeing were more stress-related (dull eyes, sallow skin) than they were age-related (silver hair, wrinkles). So, I set about seeing if I could reverse the stress, knowing that I couldn’t reverse the age. And with some work and some self-compassion, I was able to do so, even as the signs of age have become more prevalent: my hair is now silver (I stopped dyeing it) and the lines around my eyes are deeper, but my eyes sparkle more. My skin glows more.
So I think what I’ve found different or surprising is that like most of us, I had always conflated age and stress, when I now know they’re so different, and should therefore be treated so differently. Yes, of course, stress can age me, but I can’t reverse aging, no matter how many creams I apply. That said, I can reverse signs of stress – by addressing the stressors, of course – but also by building in a cadence of self-care and self-compassion into my daily life. And I’ve discovered that looking youthful is no longer a goal of mine, and never will be. However, radiance – the whole vibe of enjoying living, staying curious, and continually practicing self-care, self-compassion, and sincere gratitude – is.
What has aging given you? Taken away from you?
So far, aging has given me more self-confidence and more self-assuredness. It has given me a greater sense of adventure than I had when I was younger – I’m less afraid of trying new things. While, unfortunately, I don’t know that it has given me more patience with others (I’m an impatient person, sad to say), it has given me more patience with myself. And it’s given me silver hair, which I thought I wouldn’t like, but turns out I love.
As far as what it’s taken away from me … see my answer to “what’s difficult,” above!
I’ve discovered that looking youthful is no longer a goal of mine, and never will be. However, radiance – the whole vibe of enjoying living, staying curious, and continually practicing self-care, self-compassion, and sincere gratitude – is.
How has getting older affected your sense of yourself, or your identity?
Oh, for SURE getting older has solidified my sense of self. FOR SURE. I spent waaaaaaay too many of my earlier years obsessing about what people thought of me, or trying to get into an impossibly small size, or being a perfect daughter, engineer, lawyer, employee … whatever. For far too long I worried that I was too immigrant, too Black, too-not-Black-enough, too female for the industry I worked in, too big, too loud, too quiet, too … everything. Suffice to say, that was no way to live.
Slowly, over the years, I’ve realized how much the contorting I was constantly doing helped no one. It didn’t help the people I was in relationship with, it didn’t help my employers, my friends, and it certainly didn’t help me. What’s more, I realized how much my contortions were based on stereotypes – what does it mean to be an immigrant/Black/woman/Trinidadian, for example? Once I realized this, I discovered how much agency I had in defining all of those things for myself – and shockingly, once defined, people were more attracted to my individuality than ever. Honestly, I can’t wait for the future, so that I can continue to further define myself, with the added attribute of being older … and, I hope, elder.
What are some age-related milestones you are looking forward to? Or ones you “missed,” and might try to reach later, off-schedule, according to our culture and its expectations?
I can’t think of many milestones that I’ve missed – I’ve had a pretty rich life so far. One milestone I’m really looking forward to is retirement – or, more specifically, my partner’s retirement from his current corporate job. (Personally, I can’t imagine retiring from the work I do now – it’s too much fun.) Once Marcus no longer has to report to an office, the freedom we’ll have – both of us doing work we love, in whatever locations we wish – opens up whole new possibilities.
And of course, I’m looking forward to witnessing my daughter graduate university, start her career, and perhaps one day having a partner of her own, or kids of her own, if she chooses to. That’ll be pretty amazing.
What has been your favorite age so far, and why? Would you go back to this age if you could?
My 30s were pretty spectacular: I was single and moved to London on my own, met and married my British partner, we became parents, the three of us moved back to my homeland of Trinidad for a few years – it was a really great time in my life, with some amazing memories.
And hell no, I wouldn’t go back to that age, any more than I’d revisit my 20s or my teen years. For goodness sake, why? Been there, done that, and there’s too much potential for adventure ahead. Onward, I say.
Is there someone who is older than you, who makes growing older inspiring to you? Who is your aging idol and why?
Hands down, it has to be my dad. He has never, ever even glanced at a stereotype about aging. He takes great care of himself, is always up for an adventure, is constantly trying to teach himself something new, and delights in mentoring younger people.
In fact, recently my dad celebrated his birthday – 84 years old. I asked him “What do you wish for yourself for the year ahead, Dad?”
He thought for a minute, and then he said, “I want to live my life to the fullest. I want to live this year as if it were my last. And then next year, I’ll want to do the same. And the same the year after that. When you get to my age, living like this is important.”
And if that’s not great advice, no matter what age you are, I’m not sure what is.
I spent waaaaaaay too many of my earlier years obsessing about what people thought of me, or trying to get into an impossibly small size, or being a perfect daughter, engineer, lawyer, employee...For far too long I worried that I was too immigrant, too Black, too-not-Black-enough, too female for the industry I worked in, too big, too loud, too quiet, too … everything…Slowly, over the years, I’ve realized how much the contorting I was constantly doing helped no one.
What aging-related adjustments have you recently made, style-wise, beauty-wise, health-wise?
Oh, so many things, many of them prompted by that mirror moment I had a few years ago, that I shared above. When I was younger, I barely drank any water: In high school, I learned that I could move between classes quicker if I didn’t have to go to the bathroom, so I didn’t drink anything all day, waiting until I got home. And then, more often than not, I’d drink fruit juice. Nowadays, I drink water all day long (I work from home, so getting to a bathroom quickly is not an issue anymore). I’ve cut down on alcohol and caffeine, because of the aforementioned hot flashes. I always hated exercise and was never athletic, but nowadays, I move five days a week, mostly to great music, and with joy (jump roping and hula hooping are current favorites).
I also stopped dyeing my hair. When I was younger, I would dye my hair often, but only back to my natural hair color. So my current salt-and-pepper hair feels subversive and punk rock – I love it. And while I love makeup, I’m wearing less and less: often only an SPF moisturizer, eyeliner, mascara and lipstick, nothing else.
And finally, when it comes to clothing, I wear a lot more color. I used to wear only black and grey and began experimenting with color when I wrote my book. For a while, I wore bright colors and clashing patterns, but these days, I’m digging deep, gemstone colors, often monochromatic – indigos, magentas, emerald greens, that sort of thing. But regardless, it’s rare I wear black. (I’m sort of falling back in love with grey, however – I like I how it looks with my silver hair!)
What’s an aging-related adjustment you refuse to make, and why?
I mean, I guess you’re never supposed to say “never,” but I can’t imagine a world where I’d ever use injectables or any other anti-aging “intervention.” Part of it is because I’m not a fan of needles or knives, under most circumstances. But there’s more.
After doing all of the research for Radiant Rebellion, I began to really understand the extent to the way ageism shows up during the entirety of our lives, from the villains in the cartoons and fairy tales we enjoy as kids, to the imagery that bombards us on social media as we approach our teenage years, to the cosmetics we’re sold as young adults, to the challenge of finding and keeping jobs as we get older, to the dismissiveness we can face from the medical field in our later years. And this ageism has resulted in an anti-aging industry that includes media, advertising agencies and other businesses that capitalize on our insecurities, to the tune of over a trillion dollars a year, largely without regulation.
After learning this, I promised myself I would do whatever I could to keep from putting another dime into this industry.
Now, that said: I would never judge anyone who made choices different from mine, and I mean this with total sincerity. Why? Well, actually, because of the insidiousness of ageism. There are real consequences to choosing to avoid the anti-aging industry. I have friends in media who tell me that if they allowed their hair to turn silver on camera, they would likely be fired from their jobs. Other single friends tell me that having signs of aging in their bio photos on dating sites could preclude them from opportunities of real connection. These concerns are hugely real, and they’re hugely valid. And this is why the point of my book is not to tell everyone to ditch the dye or other interventions – far from it. But I do hope that armed with the knowledge of the evolution of some of our beliefs around aging, folks will get curious about the decisions they make, and weigh them against their own internalized ageism, while also considering what very real repercussions there might be in their worlds should they choose to opt in or out. If people engage in only this type of curiosity and nothing more, then as far as I’m concerned, mission accomplished.
I would never judge anyone who made choices different from mine, and I mean this with total sincerity. Why? Well, actually, because of the insidiousness of ageism. There are real consequences to choosing to avoid the anti-aging industry. I have friends in media who tell me that if they allowed their hair to turn silver on camera, they would likely be fired from their jobs. Other single friends tell me that having signs of aging in their bio photos on dating sites could preclude them from opportunities of real connection.
What’s your philosophy on celebrating birthdays as an adult? How do you celebrate yours?
Oh, I am very much pro celebrating birthdays (no surprise here). But I’m also a confirmed introvert, so personally, a big party (or, God forbid, a surprise party), is not my thing. Usually, my celebrations revolve around some sort of travel, either to somewhere exotic with my partner and our daughter, or recently, a quick solo road trip somewhere where I can lounge around with a beautiful view and a good book. But I deeply believe that celebrating all you’ve done in the past year, as well as all the potential of the coming years, is a non-negotiable imperative. There’s only one you that has ever existed in the world, and that will ever exist in the world. That alone is worth meaningful celebration.
There is so much goodness here (No surprise. I've followed Karen for awhile and she just knows what's up.), but my favorite part is her making the distinction between aging and stress. That we can't avoid aging, but that we can constructively address stress and strive to be radiant. Amen to that! And Karen is a real inspiration in that regard. She IS absolutely radiant.
Sari, this has been one of my favorite questionnaires/interviews yet! "Radiance"....what a lovely concept. This distinction between stress and aging is profound, and it kind of blew my mind. I turn 62 next month and it feels like a big age—bigger than others in so many ways—but really, it's mostly that this last year has been enormously stressful with a big move and many losses. I can see after reading this that my radiance light has dimmed, much more than I have aged. I'm going to set about fixing that! Inspiring read. Thank you to you both.