I didn’t think I would look like this. . . wrinkled. The wrinkles on my forehead that I was already aware of have become permanent, engraved like a pair of railroad tracks.
My neck feels fresh and the crow’s feet around my eyes are deeply etched.
Since I seem to have lost all sense of taste as I get older, I wear really terrible glasses. What’s even stranger is that I’ve become blonde.
But what strikes me most about the picture Hal Hershfield sent me of me digitally aged to look 20 years older – and with no small amount of horror – is how much of mine I am I look like my grandmother.
Professor Hershfield, who holds a doctorate in psychology from Stanford University and is a professor of behavioral decision-making and marketing at UCLA, recently published “Your Future Self: How To Make Tomorrow Better Today,” a book based on his research at the ” The Intersection of Psychology and Economics examines why people find it difficult to commit to their long-term goals.
Katie sent Prof Hershfield a photo of herself at her current age, 42, and he then sent it back to her to make her look 20 years older
He discovered that people constantly let down their future selves.
We’re not good at planning ahead and doing things like “save more, eat healthier, exercise more, go to sleep earlier,” explains Prof. Hershfield, who’s speaking to me from California and seems to be very good at manifesting his future , as he is taking part in a study walk at 6.30am.
“The reason we don’t save for retirement or get fit is because we have such a vague sense of being older,” he continues. In our 30s and 40s, it’s so abstract that we find it difficult to invest in it or care about it.
What we need is something that stimulates our consciousness – a visual focal point through which we can connect with our older selves. And by aging us digitally, Prof. Hershfield hopes to provide just this “imagination aid.”
There are various apps that allow you to see an older version of yourself, but he offers me a bespoke service. I send Prof. Hershfield a photo of myself at my current age, 42, and then he sends it back to me so old that I look 20 years older.
I pour myself a large glass of wine before looking at it.
I don’t consider myself particularly vain. I rarely wear makeup and don’t even brush my hair most days. I’m not particularly confident. I often hate the way I look. But now, in my 40s, I’ve at least come to terms with it and don’t care too much about what other people think.
One of the benefits of my constant dissatisfaction with my weight is that I have a relatively young face. Although I have repeatedly bought more conscious facial creams in recent years, I am in no hurry to make any optimizations (fillers, Botox, lifting).
Still, I’m definitely worried when I look at the picture of me at 62, and when I finally open it, it’s a terrible shock.
My first thought is that I look like a different person overall. The wrinkles are so obvious and the glasses are so terrible. Couldn’t Hal have given me laser eye surgery and Botox? “This isn’t LA!” he jokes.
He suggests that the closer the bond we have with our future selves, the better decisions we’re likely to make for her, but I’m not sure I really feel all that connected to this old lady.
He asks me to get a fuller picture of the future 62-year-old Katie. How does she spend her time? With who?
Katie’s first thought when she sees the picture of her older self is that she looks like a completely different person
Where does she live? Will she work the same job or will she have scaled back her work and retired? Will she have the same values I have now?
At least in my sixties I look pretty confident. She strikes me as a sassy, happy-looking professional. I imagine that she – or I – has a busy, interesting life, and that helps build a bond.
I look like I’m about to go to lunch with friends, give a talk, or go to the theater.
Since I’m well tanned, I’ll probably travel a bit, or maybe I’ll have bought that second home in Greece that I’m dreaming of.
I look content, as if something is fulfilling me – maybe a relationship? Or maybe I’ll be a famous author by then.
Prof. Hershfield is right. When I look at my older self, it becomes clearer what ambitions I have for her.
It’s interesting that while her future self looks pretty professional, she also seems completely carefree, and it occurs to me that maybe that’s because instead of being worn out by marriage, she stayed happily single and instead has taken one lover or another.
I surprise myself when I realize that even though I would love to surround my future self with love, I don’t mind the thought of it at all.
I’m now at an age where most of my friends are married with kids, and sometimes I feel like I want that for myself too, but now I realize how much more of my thoughts on starting a traditional family based on expectations than what I actually want.
Seeing an older version of me looking so content really highlights the different kind of life I could lead and how fulfilling that could be. Funnily enough, when I look at my picture, I feel a lot less worried about not having children.
After all, it doesn’t look like my future self would spend her weekends taking care of her grandchildren. She looks smart, sophisticated, interesting – and like she has a lot of time (and sleep) to herself.
Once she thinks about it, Katie likes her older self and believes she has finally shed some of the insecurities that she now knows she has held on to for too long
I suppose I went blonde to cover the gray and am happy with that. It’s a sign that I haven’t given up. Maybe I have a hot toy boy somewhere!
There are probably more serious questions I should ask my older self, too. Do I have a pension or cash? These are things that occasionally bother me in the present, but – like everyone else – I’m too worried about money right now to think much about the future.
I keep putting off organizing my pension (I know, I know…) because I associate it with old people. But here I am old, and how do I actually live?
I feel guilty admitting that the same goes for my health. I know I should be shedding the extra pounds I’ve gained, but even though I make enthusiastic attempts to go to the gym every now and then, it never lasts.
Still, I want future Katie to be able to go out and have fun. Not only to look good, but also to avoid being plagued by diseases.
I look at the picture just after I got back from Glastonbury festival – I want 62 year old Katie to still be able to go to Glastonbury and dance all night.
Prof. Hershfield encourages people to use the feelings they have about their future selves to make changes now on a practical level, no matter how small: meeting a retirement advisor, not wasting money, finally going to the gym.
He encourages us to introduce “commitment devices” — things that reward or punish us when we go off track — like an accountability partner (someone we talk to about good new habits so we don’t flounder) or apps like stickK (stickk.com), which use “contracts” to help people achieve their personal goals.
One of Prof. Hershfield’s techniques is to “make the big small,” which means breaking down challenges into smaller tasks and infusing things we’re reluctant to do with positive emotions.
Don’t think about marathons yet, just run around the block while listening to your favorite podcast.
Nevertheless, he warns against becoming obsessed with the future. There’s a place for a little YOLO (you only live once), even if you plan ahead.
Use Prof. Hershfield’s techniques at home. . .
It’s easier than ever to see an older version of yourself, as evidenced by the popularity of TikTok’s age filter, which has over 10 billion views.
FaceApp, AgingBooth and Snapchat also have good aging filters.
Hershfield’s approach is not just about seeing an older version of yourself, but about deeply empathizing and investing in it.
To do this, you have to make the effort to really flesh them out.
Some questions Hershfield says you might ask your older self include:
- How will I spend my time when I’m that age?
- Who will I spend it with?
- How will I look back on this (current) time in my life when I am the age shown in the photo?
Finally, write a letter to the older version of yourself and then one from you back to yourself.
“We have to celebrate the present,” he says. “A lot of my research has been about myopia – when we focus so much on the present, we miss the future.” But there is something called farsightedness, where we focus so much on the future that we miss the present
“There are times when we need to live in the present and celebrate it and realize that we may even benefit our future selves because they will have the memories to look back on.”
“There is essentially a need for harmony – if we view this as a negotiation across time, then both our future and present selves should have a voice.”
There are many things that I like when I look at my future self. I look radiant, optimistic and playful.
I remember the older people I love and admire most now, like the friend who celebrated her 64th birthday on a seaside bar crawl with her husband.
My father, who was 90 when he died, remained playful, curious and funny throughout his life.
So yeah, now that I think about it, I like the older Katie. I think she’s finally shaken off some of the insecurities that I know I’ve held on to for too long today.
What would my older self say to me now? I think I would tell myself to be happy and not have any regrets – but go get some damn retirement.
Most of all, I’m just glad that I’m not a gray old grandma making sandwiches for her husband.
I hope that in two decades I can be that woman who enjoys work and lovers in between visits to the hairdresser to touch up her hair roots.