Christina PierpaoliAging has always fascinated me—and it’s largely for this reason that I study it. Another is because I’ve never felt my age.
I’ve always felt older. As a tyke, I remember my strong and unmistakable attraction to the adult table (sorry mom) when most of my peers preferred to ogle at each other’s collection of beanie babies or fire spitballs from their bendy straws. It was never my shtick.
At 24, I probably feel closer to 34 or 40—though, admittedly, I haven’t a clue what that *actually* feels like. All I really know is that I’m some type of anachronism, preferring hard copies to digital ones, Bach to Beyonce, and the Times to Twitter. I don’t know about you, but I never did feel 22 (well, perhaps I did at age 5).
Does that matter, and what does it mean? Is how old I feel more important than how old I actually am? As a geropsychologist-in-training, I don’t think these questions are particularly absurd. And I do think they matter.
This tension between one’s subjective age—that is, how old or young someone feels—and their actual, chronological age has begun to attract a good bit of attention in the gerontological literature, and has quickly become a focus of my own research.
Accumulating evidence, for example, implicates subjective age in older adults’ well being. Cross-sectional and longitudinal studies have found that feeling younger is associated with better self-rated and objective heath, and is an important correlate of cognitive and physical functioning. Feeling older has even become increasingly recognized as a risk factor for premature mortality.
Why? Because this research is in its infancy (ha!), the reasons are unclear. It has been suggested that younger subjective age is associated with lower C-reactive protein, which is a marker of systemic inflammation linked to a catalogue of adverse heath outcomes in old age, including functional limitation and all-cause mortality. It is conceivable that individuals who feel younger than their actual age may have lower systemic inflammation because they have more favorable health profiles. Consistent with this logic, feeling younger has been linked to lower body mass index (BMI), fewer depressive symptoms, and more frequent participation in physical activity.
Considering the pathogenesis of osteoarthritis (OA)—another research interest of mine —these findings are important and interesting to me for several reasons. For one, elevated BMI is a widely accepted risk factor for knee pain, with inflammatory responses having been implicated in the obesity-knee OA link. And among persons with OA, activity restriction and physical inactivity are avoidance measures often adopted to reduce the pain associated with movement. Paradoxically, these strategies have been linked with obesity, increased pain, and further restriction among its sufferers.
So, to what extent might subjective age influence OA pain, and OA pain, subjective age?
Before I attempt to answer, I should note that recent experimental research demonstrates the possibility that subjective age—like pain—can vary proximally and contextually. For example, increases in subjective age have been observed after priming participants with negative age stereotypes. Emerging work also suggests that felt age fluctuations may also be sensitive to health cues: features of physical functioning—particularly pain—have been found to make age salient to people, suggesting increased physical symptoms could trigger an awareness of one’s age and aging process.
It seems previous research positions OA as an apt context in which to study subjective age because pain is a central and persistent symptom to which fluctuations in subjective age may be sensitive.
How does subjective age behave with osteoarthritis, then?
Using a single baseline interview and a unique “in the moment” 7-day experience sampling method (ESM) comprising 4 assessments daily—drawn from Dr. Patricia Parmelee’s ongoing study of everyday quality of life with OA— we examined health and affective (i.e. emotional) correlates of self-reported subjective age among 68 older adults with knee osteoarthritis.
The difference between participants’ actual and endorsed subjective age, computed globally (i.e. from baseline) and at each ESM data point, was examined as a predictor of baseline well-being and of momentary pain and affect.
Dr. Parmelee and I found that while older adults in our (admittedly small) sample typically felt younger than their actual age, there was considerable momentary variability in subjective age. At baseline, feeling older than one’s actual age was associated with more anger, higher BMI, disability, and depression and with poorer life satisfaction. At the momentary level, feeling younger was associated with greater positive affect and with lower negative affect, fatigue, and pain.
Results provide at least preliminary support to a conceptualization of the age individuals feel on a proximal basis as a marker of individuals’ physical, and perhaps mental heath. What might this mean clinically? Perhaps simply asking a person how old he feels, for example, may yield rich insights into the physical and mental state of the individual, his experience with getting older or, more specifically, with managing a disability like OA. Felt age may, so too, be an elegant proxy measure of the subjective experience of pain in clinical settings.
So, while you may not stay forever young, at least there’s evidence to suggest you can feel like you are. And, really, that seems to be more important— take it from this subjectively old soul.
Tell me– do you feel your age?
“At 24, I probably feel closer to 34 or 40—though, admittedly, I haven’t a clue what that *actually* feels like. All I really know is that I’m some type of anachronism, preferring hard copies to digital ones, Bach to Beyonce, and the Times to Twitter. I don’t know about you, but I never did feel 22 (well, perhaps I did at age 5).”
I love this=) as I still love having hard copy planners, just transitioned over to using text and just want to call my friends instead of messaging them sometimes! I like to think of it as being “old at heart” which need not be a bad thing. Thank you so much for sharing your insights!
Isabel
Well, at 63, I second the “emotions” of your two previous commenters. I feel every millisecond of my age physically. However, apparently my mind has fixed itself on a much younger, more vibrant self who is seemingly as ageless as Peter Pan. Thus, I FEEL 63 but often ACT 23! Case in point: last week I played Hide and Seek with two five year-olds. We ‘hid’ inside the locker room lockers. You can read the story at: helenhudsonhere.com.
I have advanced OA and was told to replace both knees 12 years ago. Didn’t do it. Quite frankly, I intend to go out with the same body parts I came in with. I also have sciolosis of the spine which causes both back pain and occasional nerve pain through both legs. (skydiving & motorcycle racing in my youth did not help this.) A surgeon told me that he could “correct it,” but I would have to sign a waiver first indicating that I knew it came with the “risk of paralysis.” Didn’t do that either. Instead? I force myself to swim a half mile every, single morning and it keeps me ‘even.’ That means about 362 days, because unfortunately the pool is NOT open on holidays!!
Dr. Pierpaoli, you are right on in both your observations and commentaries. You ‘get it.’ An amazing accomplishment for such a young person as you are blessed to be (at least for the moment). Good luck on your research and feel free to study me anytime. 🙂 🙂
I am 64. Some days I feel as energetic as ever, some days less so. Either way, that’s what being 64 is for me; so why would I characterize it as feeling “younger” some days and feeling “older” others? I am content with my age as it shows up, day by day.
Some traits are miscast as being younger, e.g., being playful, idealistic, engaged in life. Some traits are miscast as being older, e.g., being serious, realistic, resigned to life. But those traits can be found in people of any age — to me, outlook and personality are not bound by years.
I love how you described personality traits as not being bound by years. That’s exactly how I feel.
When I turned 63 last year, all of a sudden my age really, REALLY bothered me. Aging over the decades had NEVER bothered me. I loved each stage. But for some reason, 63 threw me for a loop and I’m still trying to recover. I feel timeless in my head…no age really defining me and “me” being a collection of all that I am and have been. My personality is not much different than when I entered first grade which I remember vividly. My ISTJ personality emerged at a very young age (although I certainly didn’t know that at the time!) I feel that I’m the same “me” I’ve always been except…and here’s the BIG EXCEPT…my body is aging. I have arthritis in my knees and elsewhere that make even simple walking very, very painful. My knee joints are distorted from the arthritis. I have so many wrinkles probably from years of swimming in the sun back when there was little knowledge of the effects of sun. My skin is sagging, crepey. My hands, which I always got so many compliments on, are wrinkled and beginning to get liver spots. I have a cataract that needs to be removed. I could go on and on, but that’s enough to depress anybody!
I did begin having some experiences where I felt invisible. Retail clerks would talk to my 30 something daughters as if I weren’t there, for example. It happened multiple times and I finally realized that my age was an issue with them. The thought I wouldn’t get it, hear well, understand, etc. I especially noticed it when it came to technology. I am very good with a variety of new and emerging technologies and have a Master’s degree in Instructional Technology: New Media and Global Education. I am responsible for technology acquisitions and training in my department. I’ve found that when talking to technical support or conversing about technical specifications, individuals talk to me as if I have minimal technology skills. Some have even admitted that they didn’t think that someone “my age” would know as much about technology as I do.
I don’t like being invisible so I’m working very hard to not let others define me especially as time becomes more and more precious each day. It’s challenging living in an ageist world. I don’t want to read exclusively about retirement communities, Medicare, end-of-life decisions, preparing my estate, etc. I want to read about sexuality and dreams and places and hopes. I want to read about all the things that I used to read about and more. My body and its needs may be changing, but I’m still me. And there are so many myths out there about aging. Some of the most sensual people I know are over 60 years old. Some of the most interesting, charming, talented, creative, outspoken people I know are over 60. We still have something to offer and it’s wonderful.
My friends are mostly all younger than I and are very age sensitive. They range from 29 years old to 54 and we don’t let age define our relationships or our activities. With that said, I’m not going to be going water skiing any time soon, but I can ride in the boat! But I’m also not going to be stilling around knitting with a blanket over my lap!
I love wearing trendy clothes, and I love beautiful lingerie both for every day and for special occasions. When I can afford it, I love getting facials and massages or doing other things to treat myself. I love traveling although money certainly is an issue at my age for me. I love girls nights out and doing fun and even silly things. I love laughter. I love learning new things and learning about the world even if I learn those things only through reading. I love social media. I don’t feel 63 on the inside…or at least I don’t feel the 63 that society tells me I’m supposed to feel. My body feels the effects of age, but my mind and spirit are timeless.
Thanks for letting me share my musings.
P.S. I”m not going to proof what I wrote. It’s so freeing not to do that!!!!