I Don’t Hide My Age, But…

I don’t hide my age, but I don’t flaunt it either. Starting and participating in Fifty is the new… is very much an act of bravery. In a way, I’m coming out of the closet. Not that the door was pulled shut, my age just hasn’t been all that important.

When people find out that I’m in my fifties, 51 to be precise, they usually display some degree of shock. “Really? No way!” Then comes the unintentionally impolite guessing game, “I thought you were 35, 38, maybe early forties at most.” I feel guilty taking credit for my perceived youthi-ness.

I work in a young industry: the Internets—something that didn’t even exist when I was a kid! While Al Gore may have invented them, youths have been weaned on the stuff, taking innovation and technology into the stratosphere of cyber, yours and Myspaces. The majority of the bright folks I work with are in their twenties and thirties. They may know I’m older, but they don’t say it aloud, or at least in my presence. Occasionally, I’m considered wise and even cool, dare I say it. Why advertise that I’m as old or even older than their mothers? As I try to stay relevant and hip to the groove (ok, that’s an outdated phrase) the age thing, well, it’s just not that important. Or is it? In the workplace (or any place), there should be no age discrimination, but let’s face it… it exists.

Earlier in my career I worked in Hollywood, often with high profile celebrities and politicos. I am accustomed to being the one behind-the-scenes, pushing others on to the red carpet or into the spotlight. Yet now, a bit like the generation coming up, with their profiles plastered everywhere, I’m going public. And like the generation before me, those spectacular women of the Movement, an act of bravery takes place when you step up and out and emerge from the dark and into the light. Yeow! Here we go!