How Getting Older Expands Our Heart
In my 20s, the thought of my approaching 30s felt like some other planet. The older people around me seemed to belong to a different era; their lives marked by concerns I couldn’t understand. But as the years passed and my 40s arrived, something shifted. Suddenly, I could see the people ahead of me—those 10, 20, or even 40 years older—in a different light. It was like I was crossing an invisible membrane I hadn’t realised was there. Their experiences that had once seemed so distant, began to feel closer. More comprehensible.
You stop looking at people through the lens of your own needs, and start seeing them for who they really are
When you’re young, you spend so much energy chasing approval, achievements, or even just trying to figure yourself out. Everything feels urgent, and your insecurities feel all-encompassing. But as you grow older, a lot of those things just start to fall away. The things you once thought were critical to your identity — how people see you, whether you’re doing “enough”—starts to matter less. You realise that no one is watching you as closely as you thought. That it’s not all about you. And honestly, that realisation is so freeing.
When all that mental clutter begins to shrink, something unexpected begins to take root in its place: understanding. You stop looking at people through the lens of your own needs, and start seeing them for who they really are. Philosopher Martin Buber talked about two ways we connect with others: “I-It” relationships, where we see people as roles or objects, and “I-Thou” relationships, where we truly meet them as whole, complex beings. Getting older nudges you toward the second kind. You’re not trying to measure people against what they mean to you anymore—you just see them. And that changes everything.

I often remember my grandparents and wish I’d known them better: not just as grandparents but as people. Asked them what their dreams were, their struggles, regrets. I had some of these conversations with my Nani, who was a friend, and these are among my most precious memories. But how much more I could have understood her and others if I’d had then the empathy I have now. How much deeper I could have experienced their lives beside mine own.
We’re taught to fear getting older, as if it’s a steady erosion of vitality or significance. But the slow letting go of youth and its ego creates space for something deeper. It brings us this profound gift of empathy. A way of seeing and understanding others that enriches your relationships and your sense of self.
Getting older, in this way, is not a loss but an expansion, a broadening of the heart and mind. And perhaps that’s its greatest gift.



































