I was twelve years old the first time I heard Ribs from Lorde’s first album Pure Heroine. As I blasted it through my earphones on the school bus, I thought Lorde had no idea what she was talking about when she sang, “It feels so scary getting old”. After spending most of the year consuming coming-of-age films and literature, I knew that the best was yet to come, and – quite frankly – I couldn’t wait to get old.

Now, at twenty-three, I know Lorde was absolutely right. It does feel so scary getting old. I live in a weird halfway house era of life, where some of my friends have never had a relationship, some are married, some have houses, and some still have their parents pay for their phone bills. I’m not sure if I’m ahead – all I know is time is moving so quickly that I barely have a chance to stop and look around.

Some of my close friends also panic about getting older, but why is that? Is it a fear of death? A fear of ageing and not being conventionally attractive? Something else entirely? We wonder if we’re crazy, or if we’re the only ones who feel this way.

For me, I think I’m scared I’ll run out of time to do everything I want to do. Comparison is the thief of joy, yet I can’t help but compare myself to people who have already achieved some of my goals and dreams, and think that I’m falling behind. 

I posted a poll on my story asking if people fear getting old: 46% of responders said yes, and 54% said no. When asked why they voted yes, people replied that they are scared of health issues, time running out, and more responsibility. It was also all women who voted yes to being afraid of ageing, which makes me wonder if we fear we won’t be beautiful anymore. One girl even told me she’s scared of getting wrinkles when she’s older, which made my heart ache.

I’ve had frequent conversations with my Nan about ageing, and I asked her if she felt the same at my age. She told me: “No. Nobody was [afraid] when I was young. We all thought, ‘I’m never going to get old, I’ll never be fifty and then one day you look in the mirror and you are, and you think ‘I’m still young!’”

I agree. I panic about getting older, but I still feel young. My Nan says you always do feel young – your body changes, but you never feel fifty. You just suddenly get there. 

TikToker Ambar Driscoll recently started a mini-series where she tries to stop time from passing so quickly. She claims that doing or learning new things helps because novelty slows things down. She believes the reason why time seemed to pass so slowly as a child is that we were always doing and learning new things. I think this is true to an extent – life didn’t start whizzing by until I left school. But on the other hand, this year has brought new experiences and big events which has caused time to go by extremely quick. This month especially I’ve been actively trying to tick off goals: I ran a half-marathon, got my driver's license, and did a two-week internship at a newspaper – April has gone by the quickest yet. Maybe slowing down time works better if you try new things with the intention of slowing it down, focusing on the experience rather than the end goal. Either way, it’s never a waste of time to have fun and fill your life with abundance and opportunities. 

While Driscoll’s TikToks have helped me reevaluate my fear of growing old, social media has overall left a sour taste in my mouth about getting old; seeing comments on people's TikToks that say, “OMG you’re 28?! You look so good for your age!”. As if twenty-eight is the new seventy. As if my life is catching fire and the ashes are blowing away in the wind before I can catch them.   

Recently, a woman I know was telling me her relationship is becoming difficult, but she’s scared to leave because she thinks it’s too late to find somebody new. She’s twenty-six. In what world are we too old to restart in our twenties? Or to ever restart?  

Seeing other people act like this makes me wonder if my fear of ageing is contributing to the societal belief that we’re ancient once we hit the wrong side of twenty-five. I want to grab all the women I know (and every other woman too) by the hand and tell them that we’re so lucky to live lives where we wish we had more time. That ageing is a privilege, and every wrinkle, line, bit of stretchy, saggy skin is just proof of a life well-lived, that we are still beautiful.

The older I get, the more I enjoy life; I feel more confident, secure in my decisions, and the things that felt like the end of the world when I was 16 are now as easy as breathing.  Although I am scared time will keep passing quickly and I won’t be able to enjoy life in the moment, dwelling on it seems to make time go faster anyway. I’m trying to reframe my mindset; I’m excited to age, to meet new people, experience new things, for my hair to turn silver, and the lines by my eyes to crinkle when I smile. 

Life is beautiful and ageing is a privilege – I hope I still think the same when I’m eighty.