The thing about ‘ageing gracefully’: whatever you call it, I’ll do it my way

I started learning about ageing and ageism – prejudice and discrimination on the basis of age – almost 20 years ago, as I entered my 50s. That’s when it hit me that this getting older thing was actually happening to me. I was soon barraged by advice on how to age well. Many concepts, like “active ageing”, were obvious. (Don’t be a couch potato.) Some, like “successful ageing”, were obnoxious. (In my opinion, if you wake up in the morning, you’re ageing successfully.) One, “ageing gracefully”, was intriguing.

Although I’ve written a whole book about ageism, I wasn’t sure I knew how to go about ageing gracefully. For starters, it didn’t seem as though I qualified. When I was speaking at a conference a few years ago, a woman in the elevator recognized my name from my badge. “Are you the one talking about ageing gracefully?” she asked. “If that’s what you’re looking for, you’ve got the wrong person,” I blurted. My clumsiness, like my bluntness, is legendary.

Still, I liked the sound of it. Grace refers to more than the physical realm, of course. We can encounter it in a relationship, through worship, in nature, or while listening to music. Grace can be transformative.

So I embarked on a quest to find out what it means to age gracefully. I consulted my bookshelves, friends and colleagues, and the internet. For a synthesis, I even ran the phrase past ChatGPT, which told me “ageing gracefully” means “embracing one’s age without excessive resistance or denial, nurturing overall wellbeing, and cultivating purpose, joy, and connection”. Sounds great!

But that doesn’t seem to be what it means in practice. In our hypercapitalist, youth-centric western culture, ageing well tends to mean spending money and time trying to look and move like younger versions of ourselves. Unsurprisingly, many “cope” with growing older by leaning heavily on denial. It’s not much of a strategy, but it’s human. It’s also why the landscape is strewn with euphemisms, like “mature” and “seasoned”, to avoid the dread “old”.

“Ageing gracefully” is one of those euphemisms. When I queried beauty culture critic and Guardian US columnist Jessica DeFino about the phrase, she called it a “particularly nefarious euphemism, because it implies that anti-ageing should appear to be effortless”. In fact, it’s anything but, she told me over email: “‘Ageing gracefully’ demands an incredible amount of effort, then demands even more effort to conceal said effort.” What’s more graceful, after all, than the ballerina whose apparent weightlessness draws on decades of grueling schooling?

The contradictions are everywhere. Embrace ageing, but appear to not age. Stay positive but accept limitations. Be authentic, but conform. Some of this reflects the very real complexities of ageing: the need to adapt as bodies change and roles evolve while also staying as active and engaged as possible.

‘Athough I’ve written a whole book about ageism, I wasn’t sure I knew how to go about aging gracefully,’ says Ashton Applewhite. Photograph: Adrian Buckmaster

To some, “ageing gracefully” means letting nature take its course: “embracing the natural signs of ageing without visiting a board-certified plastic surgeon along the way”, as plastic surgeon Stephen Bresnick writes on his website. He calls this approach “outdated” and urges potential patients to consider facelifts, tummy tucks and breast lifts. In a video titled “Stop telling women to AGE GRACEFULLY!!”, TikTok influencer Kitchen Killa Lisa likewise advises against accepting age-related changes. “I’m so tired of people telling women how they should live their lives!” she rants. “Get the Botox. Get the filler. Get the Botox. Get the facelift, the eyelift. Lift them titties, bitch!”

One thing’s for sure: the phrase is gendered. There’s plenty of advice for men on staying fit and looking good in midlife and beyond. But a search for “ageing gracefully” yields a sea of female faces, punctuated occasionally by George Clooney’s or Jake Gyllenhaal’s. Girls learn early on to conform to gender stereotypes that encourage compliance and “likability”. Girls also learn to be each other’s harshest critics, and the policing never stops. As in the workplace – where women are too sexy, then too fertile, then neither – the standards for ageing while female are impossible to meet.

“Ageing gracefully” is also ageist, because it implies there’s something wrong with ageing past youth. But the kids aren’t alright either. Campaigns are targeting ever-younger demographics in pursuit of lifelong customers. In 2023, Carson Bradley, a teen TikTok influencer, went viral with a video of her 25-minute skincare routine “to slow the ageing process as a 14-year-old”. A search for “baby botox” – smaller injections than regular Botox and not actually for babies, phew – yields an astonishing 91m results. In the hands of the beauty and wellness industries, “ageing gracefully” is just another faux-positive phrase used to sell anti-ageing products, like luxury skincare firm Estée Lauder’s campaign to “reframe the conversation from anti-aging to visible age reversal”. At any stage of life, the message is clear: ageing is to be feared and fought.

Then there’s the ableism. Over time, balance deteriorates and bodies work less well. It gets harder to stay mobile, let alone graceful. How’s a person to adapt? Reluctantly, without complaint and ideally in private. Many older people refuse to use walkers or wheelchairs because the stigma is so great, even if it means never leaving home.

One thing I’ve noticed is that as they grow older, people tend to care less about others’ opinions, and find it easier to assert themselves. Sometimes that’s liberating. Sometimes it’s a response to being ignored or condescended to. Graceful it ain’t. “Ageing gracefully” is “a way to say ‘sit down and shut up’”, snaps educator Barbara Osborn, a colleague whose opinion I’d solicited. “Don’t struggle. Don’t explore. Don’t call for change.”

An alternative? “Age disgracefully” – a phrase that’s been gaining traction in the media and popular culture since the turn of the century. Defy “age appropriate” expectations for what to say or wear and where to do it. Reject modesty and restraint! Be yourself! In other words, hit that club, wear that miniskirt, ignore age stereotypes. Think Iggy Pop and Mick Jagger, or the fashion icons of Advanced Style. More power to these octogenarian rockers and fashionistas; ageing is utterly individual, and they personify the fact that we grow more different from each other over time. They’re having a fine time, and they’re not about to shuffle obediently offstage.

I’m not defying the same way they are. I’m not taking up pole dancing or skateboarding. And I’ll never be among the gracefuls, no matter how hard I try. Ageing is complicated, and we each have to find our own way through it.

My path lies in rejecting this culture’s ageist, sexist, ableist drumbeat: the mainstream narrative that the way to relate to ageing is to resist it. I’ve discussed this with countless friends over the years, and asked quite a few what they thought it meant to age gracefully. My favorite response came in conversation with organizer Julia Rhodes Davis. “The more we turn and face the truth – that we are all ageing, that death is coming for us all – the more alive we become,” said Julia. “That’s my definition of ‘ageing gracefully.’”

I’ll take it. To me, it means growing older unapologetically, truthfully and in community. I’ll call it ageing with grace.

• An internationally recognized expert on ageism, Ashton Applewhite is the author of This Chair Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism and a co-founder of the Old School Hub