You Look Great, Just Not Younger

You Look Your Age (And that's not an insult)

Let’s settle this once and for all: you look your age. Yes, you. If you’re 35, you look 35. If you’re 55, you look 55. And no, that’s not an insult—it’s just reality, and reality is tired of being gaslit.

Somehow, in our Botox-glazed, filter-fueled society, “You look young for your age” has become the most backhanded compliment in the game. We’ve been trained to beam with pride when someone says it, like we unlocked the cheat code to time. But guess what? It’s not a cheat code. It’s small talk. It's social lube. It’s the same as when someone sees you out with your mom and goes, “Aww, are y’all sisters?” That’s not a statement of fact. That’s grocery store manners.

Jennifer Lopez is 55. She looks 55. She looks like a hot, well-moisturized 55. And that’s a compliment... and a fact.

This obsession with “not looking our age” is exhausting. We’ve convinced ourselves that looking younger is the gold standard, while conveniently forgetting that nobody even knows what age is supposed to look like anymore. You think you look young for 40? You’re just comparing yourself to 40-year-olds from 1998 who wore brown lipstick, crunchy bangs, and didn’t know what SPF was. Newsflash: today's 40 looks different not because it’s younger, but because everyone has access to retinol and YouTube tutorials now.

Let’s not ignore the skincare-industrial complex. We’re living in the golden age of serums, lasers, and injectables. You can get filler on your lunch break and walk out looking like you had a restful childhood. Of course people look “young”—they’ve got hyaluronic acid, glycolic acid, and part-time estheticians. That doesn’t make you ageless; that just makes you budget-conscious with a beauty fridge.

Also, let’s not pretend like those compliments aren’t loaded. When someone says “you look good for your age,” what they really mean is “I think you're surprisingly put-together.” It’s not really a compliment. It’s an observation, dipped in sugar.

So yeah, you look your age—and your clothes confirm it. You’re still wearing the same skinny jeans and ballet flats from when Rihanna was still doing music. Wearing low-rise jeans again doesn’t make you 22—it just makes you 42 with commitment issues. Fashion recycles, but your knees don’t.

And here’s some science for the people in the back: studies show strangers can accurately guess your age within five years just by looking at you. Your contour stick isn’t fooling the human brain—it just adds shadows. We’re hardwired to pick up on micro-expressions, posture, voice, and grooming habits. You may think your high ponytail makes you look 25, but we all saw your lower back wince when you reached for the car keys.

And let’s be brutally honest: the biggest giveaway is asking how old you look in the first place. That’s the mating call of someone clinging to youth like it’s a clearance rack at Forever 21. The minute you ask, we already know the answer: you’re dying to be validated. And that’s okay! We all want to feel desirable, visible, relevant. But let’s stop pretending the number they throw back is scientific. It’s social survival. They’re not giving you an age—they’re giving you peace.

And it’s okay if you not only want to look younger, but feel younger. It’s been embedded in you by misogyny and outside influences. It’s normal to chase that feeling—we were raised on makeover montages, 10-step skincare routines, and magazines that treated 30 like a death sentence. Of course you want to rewind the clock. You’ve been told your entire life that your value peaks before your career does. That your desirability has a deadline. That youth equals relevance, visibility, and approval.

Wanting to feel younger isn’t the problem—thinking you have to is. You were trained to panic the second you stopped getting carded. You were taught that aging is something to fight, not something to wear proudly. So yeah, if you still light up when someone says “you don’t look your age,” that makes sense. You’re not shallow. You’re just human—raised in a culture that worships youth and punishes women for not pretending.

Now, can we talk about Salma Hayek? Yes, she looks incredible at 50+, but she also has a glam squad, a chef, a dermatologist on retainer, and a cryotherapy chamber in her house. Comparing yourself to her is like comparing your Ikea futon to a Versailles chaise lounge. It’s not fair and it’s not even the same category.

Bottom line: you don’t need to look young to look good. You can look 45 and still be fine as hell. You can look 61 and make heads turn. Looking your age isn’t the insult you think it is. It’s the result of surviving everything life has thrown at you while still having the audacity to leave the house in earrings and lip gloss.

Unless you're a raisin, what’s wrong with looking your age?

@Santitos

@salinasmariasantos

Copyright © 2025 Maria Santos Salinas for FRONTeras.