Stop Complimenting Me For Looking Good For My Age

Here’s the thing: if you’re about to tell me I “look good for my age,” just… don’t. Stop. Back it up, Sharon.

Because that compliment? It’s the verbal equivalent of serving me a cake and then telling me it’s gluten-free, sugar-free, flavor-free, but hey—it looks nice on the plate. Hard pass.

When someone tells me I look good for my age, what they’re really saying is: “Wow, you’re surprisingly not decrepit yet! Good job, Grandma!”

It’s the same energy as saying:

“That outfit is so cute… for Target.”

“He’s actually kind of funny… for a dad.”

“This wine is good… for being under ten bucks.”

See what happened there? You undid the compliment the second you added the qualifier. It’s like wrapping a gift in toilet paper and expecting me to be grateful.

Newsflash: I don’t come with an expiration date stamped on my forehead. I didn’t suddenly become a limited-edition, slightly crusty version of myself after 50.

I’m not milk. I’m whiskey. I’m Beyoncé’s Renaissance Tour. I’m Cher rocking fishnets at 77. (Seriously, Cher is out here laughing at your “for your age” nonsense while doing squats in heels.)

So when I look good, I look good. Period. Full stop. There’s no need to tack on my birth certificate as a disclaimer.

Here’s What You Could Say Instead

Let’s rewrite this whole “complimenting women after 40” handbook, shall we? Because we’re done with crumbs. Here’s the new menu:

Instead of: “You look good for your age.”
Say: “You look powerful as hell.”

Instead of: “Wow, you don’t look 50!”
Say: “You look like you could deadlift me and my ex’s emotional baggage.”

Instead of: “I hope I look that good when I’m older.”
Say: “You’re proof that the age police don’t know jack.”

Because trust me, I didn’t build these muscles, these laugh lines, and this confidence just to be handed the world’s weakest participation trophy of compliments.

If men got the same treatment, Ryan Reynolds would be getting:
“Wow, you look good… for a 48-year-old who just carried Deadpool on his back for a decade.”

Or Keanu Reeves would hear:
“Hey, not bad… for a guy who’s been dodging bullets since 1999.”

But they don’t get those qualifiers, do they? Nope. They just get to look good. Period.

So why do women get this weird add-on clause like we’re some shocking plot twist in a soap opera?

I’m not asking you to stop noticing me. (Please, keep noticing. These delts didn’t build themselves.) I’m just asking you to keep my age out of it. Because my age doesn’t make me look good. I make me look good.

And the next time someone drops the “for your age” line on me, I’m going to smile sweetly and say, “Thanks. You look pretty good for someone who still thinks that’s a compliment.”