Years ago, when my firm was just getting established, I was pitching for a new creative contract. I brought along an older male consultant who had wrinkles, a pot belly, thinning hair, and a 30-year-old portfolio of corporate speech writing. I wanted him to accompany me because I was attempting to fend off ageism as an insecure, self-conscious, entrepreneur scared to go alone into a dark wood-paneled boardroom, feeling that my experience was not commensurate with my talent.

During the meeting, I was asked by the prospect how old I was. I paused, thinking: Why was he asking? What if I told the truth? Even back then, I understood that people thought I was 20 years younger than I was. I was torn between telling the truth or lying. I didn’t want to be judged based on my actual age.

I was not willing to risk losing a lucrative contract to make sure that the prospect did not know how old I was but I succumbed to telling the truth. Deep down, I felt that I had made a tactical error against ageism. I was right. The man’s mouth dropped open. He looked at me, shocked, and said, “I had no idea you were that old.” 

He’s not alone. A survey from the nonprofit Transamerica Institute found that more than a third (35%) of employers thought that someone 58 years old was “too old” to hire.

Aging is way more than skin deep. The catch is not the way you look, it’s about the way you act. Don’t give in to loud laughter, don’t be silly; always behave in public, etc.

I’ve always fought against this way of thinking. I insist on my childlike curiosity, my interest, and desire to keep building and creating through my work. I look out of my eyes and notice things. I listen to music I’ve never heard before. I talk with strangers as I’m riding on the train.  

But no matter how young you act, (especially as a woman in business), you will eventually run up against ageism at work in the form of a hiring manager or a colleague who will look for ways to find out your age.

They don’t need to ask directly. They can inquire about the music you listen to, books you’ve read, and your first concert. Then, they will form a very clear picture of your age, generation, and ultimately your capabilities.

But finding out about an applicant’s age and background on social media, while it’s potentially illegal, is very easy. A friend of mine who was looking for a job (and a boyfriend) did a Google vanity search and discovered her age, address, and more on a website that she didn’t permit to publish. She said it was an invasion of her privacy and right to work without discrimination. I ended up helping her send letters to have her information removed to protect her privacy but mainly to protect her real age so she could get a job. 

I go to great lengths to hide my age, too. When potential clients try to figure out how old I am, I tell them, “You know I’m in the entertainment business, I am a professional speaker, so I must keep up appearances. I don’t speak of my age.” I also don’t take the bait on social media when cultural references come up because then the algorithm can date me, and I don’t want to start getting AARP ads versus technology and financial news content.  

Our American work culture depends not only on being young but also on living young to toxic levels, from music to youth-enhancing diets to sleepless hustle culture, weight training, intermittent fasting, and those pesky TikTok and Instagram filters all designed to stave off the look of aging. The “be young” narrative is a lie delivered and repackaged as an algorithm by male engineers that only want young women all the time—as contractors, coworkers, for a Susie Happy Homemaker, as a girlfriend, as a f buddy, all the things.  

When it comes to the corporate workplace though, older experienced women looking for work have serious trouble getting past the résumé screeners. And those trying to keep their current jobs are being replaced by younger, childless women.

I am starting to realize that having my own business may not bring in sufficient revenue to get me to retirement safely. To fix this, I’ve been looking for supplemental freelance work, and uploading my résumé to various job sites, but haven’t been able to even get an interview. The job descriptions I find are a perfect fit for my interests and skill sets: curious, creative, a public speaker, great with community engagement on Discord and Reddit, social media influencer, expert media buyer, podcasting, a social media native, branding is a superpower, loves to write, great on camera, blah blah blah—all the things I can deliver while I sleep.

However, my experience and years in the creative industry must be hindering the screening algorithm that blocks my résumé from ever landing on a hiring manager’s desk. The rejection letters I get are swift and graciously always read “Your experience is impressive! When we find a good fit, we’ll let you know!”

So now, whenever I’m asked to put my age on applications, I don’t provide it. I leave that blank or “accidentally” include the wrong birth year. But a part of me has also given up, and I just don’t apply as often anymore. 

In the age of Zoom calls, video podcasts, and virtual workshops, as a public speaker, I have no solution to hide my years of experience so that I can get creative freelance work. I don’t have the kind of money that Madonna has, or the doctors that Tom Cruise uses to plump up his face with fillers.

The best I can do is use ridiculously expensive face products and shoot videos that show my young plump lips to keep my appearance as vital for as long as possible. (I did learn a trick from Taraji P. Henson who wears a tight ponytail to make her skin look tight and flawless.) 

Placing looks aside, there are ways you can shield yourself, just a little bit, against ageism and feeling undervalued: 

Monetize: Set up your side hustle (or if you want to call it passion work) as a freelance business. Working in a corporation these days does not provide job security. And the older you get, the closer you are to being aged out at work. Having a side hustle can not only provide emotional release from feeling inadequate, but it can also help you regain the confidence that comes with your incredible and worked-your-ass-off-for-them skill sets 

Network: Join a mastermind and collaborate with like-minded individuals where you can talk about your dreams and challenges and get help. These collectives can rejuvenate your mind and spirit. 

Write: Write essays about your real-life work experiences, keep it positive with as much value-added content as possible, and share it on LinkedIn. Use LinkedIn to meet other professionals in your industry. Writing, even if you are not great at it, can be cathartic. Don’t be too afraid to share on social media, it’s the best way we can all connect at scale these days. I wrote up a five-tip white paper on overcoming your fear of sharing on social. 

Share: Give away your knowledge for free to young aspiring students, interns, or people looking for opportunities to work. This will not only elevate your professional brand but will also keep you relevant and help you feel good about yourself. Giving always returns big dividends and LinkedIn, Reddit, and even Meta’s new Threads are three great channels to share what you know with others. 

Relinquish: The benefit of having very young people run the show, is that they may have no historical context for anything. Stand aside and watch them build and fail, then build again and succeed. Let them come to you for advice and ideas. Maybe the narrative that our knowledge is more valuable than a young learner’s truth is false.

If you want to stay in the workforce, whether as an entrepreneur or W2 employee, keeping up with the future of work by learning from the naïve ones maybe could help all of us build a new and interesting world of work that may actually save it.

 Stay A Child Forever is JinJa Birkenbeuel’s curated playlist on YouTube Music created for Fast Company. 

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