At 58, I refuse to accept the ‘old age’ label | Letter

Luz Castano responds to a column by Zoe Williams on how gen Z think old age begins at 53

At 58, I read Zoe Williams’s column with a mixture of laughter and disbelief, and, I admit, a flicker of irritation (Gen Z thinks old age begins at 53 – so I have only three months to go, 28 April). If 53 is now considered the starting point of “old age”, what exactly am I meant to be doing? Planning my funeral? Retiring from joy?

Williams captures something real about generational perception, but the conclusion deserves a gentle pushback. The idea that life sharply declines into fragility and caution in one’s early 50s is not just exaggerated, it’s unhelpful. It risks shrinking people’s sense of what remains possible. At 58, I am not winding down; I am still discovering, still moving, still interested in the world. Yes, perhaps I am slightly more aware of my knees than I was at 27, but I am also wiser about what truly matters and far less interested in living by someone else’s definition of limitation.