I’m 26. Stop Telling Me I Take My Health For Granted
Because health isn’t age-specific.

Ever since I’ve been able to hold a conversation, nearly every interaction with someone of middle age or older has gotten around to some version of, “Just wait until you’re my age. You’re young and healthy and don’t have to think about it, but as you get older, ohhhh it’s no fun.”
The fact that anyone thinks they’re the first person to have told me about aging is the first topic of interest. But what really rankles is the assumption that anyone below a certain age must be living essentially free of discomfort.
In reality, I completely expect it to get worse. I have little hope that the neck pain I’ve had since high school will get better and not worse. I mourn the day I’ll no longer be able to take a hike or sit on the floor. The fear of cancer or dementia already hovers.
But what hasn’t happened yet doesn’t undercut the fact that I’ve lost track of the number of doctors I’ve seen in the last few years, the vials of blood I’ve had taken, the prescriptions I’ve had filled, and the days when I’ve wished I didn’t have a body at all.
And because I know sickness, I also appreciate the ways in which I am healthy. I’m thankful for them, not dismissive.
This is not a sob story about my personal health; it’s an observation. When I gather with people my age, we talk about our bodies just like older people do — the discomfort we’re in, the concessions we make, the medications we take, the progress we have or haven’t made.
Is human health getting worse, or is medicine more equipped to tackle common ills, or do older generations just not remember the burdens of their younger bodies? Your guess is as good as mine.
I’m not denying that bodies become more difficult to handle as they age; no human on this earth has ever denied that, because we all witness age. Those of us who know our parents see them change over the years, and if we know our grandparents, we watch them grow frail. We know age like we know death and the sun rising.
But pain and disability are not restricted to older people. Ailments including arthritis and fatigue can and do affect people of all ages. I am aware that these afflictions become inevitably more common with age, but I already know people who have been incapacitated by both.
When you assume that young people are healthy, you deny the possibility that we may never have been able to do the things you once did, or can currently do. You deny that there are people who have suffered from chronic back pain since childhood or who have allergies or depression that keep them from common activities.
You deny that perhaps the person you’re talking to is in pain at that very moment, or that, in the past, they suffered from an injury or illness that they are proud to have overcome.
We all know that our bodies and brains are fragile. To assume that we don’t is hurtful and unhelpful. So let’s stop assuming people’s health based on looks or age, and instead accept that health and ableness are struggles we all contend with.
Instead of holding poor health above the heads of younger people like a scythe that will fall on some undetermined date, we should be engaging in discussions of health and wellbeing across the generations. We should stop making our pain a competition, and instead offer sympathy and understanding. We should stop assuming.
Instead of telling people to be grateful for what they may or may not have, let’s admit that we’re all just creatures learning and relearning every day how to live in a body.
