My Relationship with Age

I have always had a complicated relationship with age. My family left Korea when I was eight years old. And when I entered the U.S. school system, I was placed in the 1st grade instead of 2nd because I didn’t know the English language. That meant I was a year to year and a half older than my classmates… all the way through high school. When my birthday would come around, I’d tell my friends I was a year younger than I really was so it didn’t seem like I flunked a grade. Luckily, at the time, my peers believed me because I looked young.

Fast forward to my thirties when I had been working in corporate America for some time. Looking young was a blessing and curse. There were many instances when someone thought I was an intern or just straight out of college. With this misperception came biases about whether or not I had the experience to do the job well. My immediate managers never made me feel this way. The friction existed with the “internal” clients I had to win over. I learned ways to be effective. I became a good listener while establishing credibility, offering insights subtly.

Many years later, in work settings, when I disclosed how old I was, the most common reaction was, “I thought you were 30!” My response to them was, I’m a lot older than I look and have been around the block… in a good way.

In December, I crossed the threshold of a big birthday; one that ends in a zero. I still have trouble saying the number. And as I reached this milestone of a birthday, I made a significant decision to leave corporate America. I gave up a title, an office, stability and the perks that come with being salaried.

It has been bittersweet for me. In some ways, I grew up in corporate America. My identity has been shaped by working in many Fortune 100 companies and startup environments. The experiences I gathered and the relationships I gained have been invaluable. I am genuinely grateful for my time as an employee. But there was something always missing. I recently read that 31 million people between the ages of 44 and 70 want a life comprised of personal meaning, continued income, and social impact.* And this life is often referred to as an “encore career.” This is the place where I am now; I want to create a life that’s different than the one I had been living. And I am actively on that journey now.

Perhaps the number zero in my age doesn’t have to be negative. Maybe zero can be about life starting anew.

(*Book referenced above: William Burnett and Dave Evans, Designing Your Life: how to build a well-lived, joyful life.)