On Aging
August 2025: Some Thoughts As Our Marriage Turns a Decade
On August 1, to celebrate our 10-year wedding anniversary, I posted this picture:
It seemed most of the comments were about how my wife and I haven’t aged.
I’m not going to be coy, Roy: Obviously, that was part of the intent. After all, we aimed to strike the same pose. It wasn’t easy. (My respect for models increases everyday.)
In fact, we wanted to return to the Hollywood Sign, but our photographer made the very valid point that the setting should reflect our current life. Sure, we might’ve gone out a lot more a decade ago, but where do we spend most of our time now?
At the playground, which is a one-minute walk from our house. So, this juxtaposition tells the story of our lives.
The sum total of the comments got me thinking about aging and why it struck such a chord amongst the people who saw it.
How much have we really aged over the course of this first decade of marriage? I asked Harsha that question and she felt what I did: she’s probably aged about four years and I’ve aged about six. To ourselves, we can tell we look older. The real test: which couple would you rather look like? But hey, we’ll take it.
Why do we look young? Because we haven’t put on weight. In fact, Harsha is maybe a pound or two above her wedding-day weight and I’m down 12 pounds. To me, weight = age. I’ve been vigilant about not packing on the pounds. It’s simple—almost stupid—math, but if you put on only a pound a year, after 20 years, you’ll put on 20 pounds.
The hack for me is baldness. As they say, balding isn’t a choice; bald is. No receding hairline; no gray hair. It’s why I don’t plan to grow out my beard, Instagram polls be damned.
And moreover, beyond the health aspect, why does this matter? As many of you know, the only age to hit me hard was 30: it was the impetus for my move from Cincinnati to Los Angeles. Otherwise, I’ve always leaned into my age. Perhaps that’s because I really do look great for 49—and my wife looks insane for 49. Hey, personality fades but looks remain. That’s the right quote, correct?
How old people think I am varies as a function of their own age, reflecting that great truth: “You don’t see things as they are; you see things as you are.” Most people over 40 think I’m somewhere between 42 and 46. Many people I meet in their 20s think I’m around 35. (Aw, how cute.)
The only part that makes my blood run cold is that, at some point in our late 40s, we realize we’re playing on the back nine. There’s less life to go than what got us here. Naturally, we don’t know for sure, but in life, the most successful people play the odds.
Who knows what the future holds? After all, Harsha works in health care; maybe we’ll all start living past 100. Hey, my mom’s dad made it to 98. And only about 15 years ago, I found out my dad’s grandparents got to 104. Wow. But still, even if we’re not exactly halfway, you can bet we’re about halfway.
I think of age as wisdom. Outside of a blink-182 song, we don’t usually ask what our age is. We ask, “How old are you?” HOW OLD are you? Like, how far along are you? That inherently implies some kind of growth.
So, embrace your age. That’s what we’re doing tonight, as we celebrate Harsha’s birthday weekend. I’d write more, but we need to get on with our day as we prep for the night. It’ll be 9 PM soon and we need to start The Bear. With subtitles since we can’t watch anything without those damn things anymore.
Rajiv Satyal is a comedian and happiness consultant. He resides in Los Angeles.