If you want people to say “I hope I’m like them when I’m older,” start doing these 7 things

We’ve all had that moment—meeting someone a few decades older who just seems to get it.

They’re not bitter, not clinging to the past, not waiting to drop unsolicited advice the second you blink. They’re grounded. Sharp. Kind. Effortlessly cool in the “I don’t need to impress you” way.

And when they walk away, you find yourself thinking something like: That’s who I want to be when I’m older.

But here's the thing—people don’t just wake up wise and magnetic at 70. It doesn’t come from hitting a certain age.

It comes from the choices we’re making right now. The habits we build. The way we treat others (and ourselves).

So if you're aiming to be one of those people others quietly admire, these seven things are a solid place to start.

1. They stay curious, not cynical

Ever notice how the people who age well—really well—have a kind of spark in their eyes?

That spark? It's curiosity. Not knowledge. Not experience. Curiosity.

They’re still learning. Still wondering. Still asking questions that don’t have easy answers.

They don’t glaze over when you mention a new app or a climate breakthrough. They lean in. They say, “Tell me more about that.” They’re not the ones mumbling, “Back in my day…” every time something new happens.

Curiosity keeps you alive inside. Cynicism rots you from the neck up.

This is backed by experts like neuroscientist Dr. Daniel Levitin, who said in The Changing Mind that staying curious and mentally engaged is one of the biggest predictors of healthy cognitive aging.

And it’s not just about keeping your brain sharp.

Curious people are magnetic. They’re good company because they’re genuinely interested in the world—and by extension, in you.

2. They let go of needing to be right

You know what doesn’t age well? Ego.

When you’re the kind of person who has to win every debate, prove every point, and never back down—you may gain a few Twitter followers, but you lose respect in real life.

The people we look up to are confident, but not controlling.

I’ll never forget a dinner I had with a retired teacher in Portugal. We ended up in a gentle disagreement about politics—not heated, just different lenses. At one point, I paused and said, “I guess we see this from opposite ends.”

She smiled and said, “That’s what makes the world interesting.”

Then she changed the subject.

No need to “win.” No need to drag it out. That moment taught me more about grace than any leadership book ever could.

People who grow into admiration don’t need to dominate every conversation. They pick their battles—and they don’t let their identity get tangled up in being right all the time.

3. They keep their sense of humor intact

Aging without humor is like music without melody—it just doesn’t hit.

The people who make you think, “I hope I’m like them,” are usually the ones laughing at themselves more than anyone else.

They’re not taking life—or themselves—so seriously.

A friend of mine recently introduced me to her 60-something neighbor, who referred to himself as “the least graceful yoga practitioner in the Western hemisphere.” He said it while trying to carry a potted plant and tripping over a garden hose.

We both cracked up.

That kind of self-aware humor? It’s gold.

A growing body of research shows that humor—especially self‑enhancing or affiliative styles—is linked to better emotional resilience, lower anxiety and depression, and stronger social connections as we age.

And here’s the trick: it’s not performative. It’s not trying to impress. It’s just a natural byproduct of knowing who you are and not needing to pretend you’ve got it all figured out.

As British comedian Stephen Fry has said: “It’s a cliché that laughter is the best medicine—but there’s a reason clichés exist.”

Humor doesn’t just lighten the mood. It builds connection, softens tension, and makes people want to be around you. Especially as the years stack up.

4. They don’t just talk, they listen

There’s something rare—and powerful—about being fully listened to.

Not half-listened. Not nodded at while someone scrolls through their phone. But really listened to.

The people who others admire later in life are often the ones who’ve mastered the art of listening.

They don’t interrupt to tell their own story. They don’t jump in with advice you didn’t ask for. They let you speak—and they hold space for what you’re saying.

I once chatted with a woman in her 70s who’d worked in conflict mediation. You’d think someone with that kind of experience would dominate the conversation. She didn’t.

She just asked thoughtful questions and listened so closely, I found myself saying things I hadn’t even realized I needed to say.

That’s what real listening does—it creates safety.

And people never forget how you made them feel.

5. They evolve, even when they don’t have to

There’s a certain comfort that comes with getting older. You know who you are, what you like, what you don’t.
You’ve got routines. A rhythm. A worldview.

But the people who really impress us?

They don’t settle into themselves like a worn-out couch. They stay open. They keep evolving—even when no one’s asking them to.

As noted by Brené Brown: “People who wade into discomfort and vulnerability are the ones who show us what courage looks like.”

It takes courage to change when you’re already comfortable. To admit, “I used to think this way, but I’ve grown.” To try a new path just because you’re curious where it leads.

I met a guy last year—a 68-year-old ex-lawyer who had started mentoring young climate activists and learning about permaculture. He didn’t have to do that. No one was pushing him.

He said, “I just figured if I want to be proud of who I’ve been, I should also be proud of who I’m becoming.”

That’s the energy.

People admire those who aren’t static. Who continue to challenge themselves. Who are willing to start over if it means growing deeper.

6. They own their impact

At some point, you realize you’ve left a trail.

Your choices. Your words. The way you’ve treated people. It’s all part of your legacy—whether you meant it to be or not.

The people others admire own that.

They don’t pretend to be perfect. But they do take responsibility.

They reach out to mend fences. They apologize without deflecting. They reflect on their past without being stuck in it.

Years ago, I reconnected with an old mentor who had said something in the past that had really shaken my confidence. I never brought it up again. But out of the blue, he said, “I’ve been thinking about something I said years ago, and I want you to know I regret it.”

No big speech. No excuses. Just honesty.

That moment meant more than any advice he ever gave me.

If you want to be someone others respect, don’t just focus on doing good now. Acknowledge where you’ve caused harm. And own it.

Not for image. For integrity.

7. They make people feel seen

This one might be the quietest trait—but it’s the one that leaves the deepest mark.

The people we hope to become aren’t just impressive or smart or cool. They make others feel seen.

They remember your dog’s name. They text you on the day of your job interview. They ask how your art show went—even if they couldn’t make it.

They see past your social mask and notice when your smile feels a little forced.

This isn’t about grand gestures. It’s about presence.

It’s about giving a damn, consistently and sincerely.

A recent article in Psychology Today emphasizes that consistent presence—simply showing up—fosters psychological safety, strengthens self‑worth, and builds trust over time.

When I think about the older folks I want to be like, they’re the ones who never made me feel small. They didn’t treat me like a project. They just showed up—and kept showing up.

And that? That sticks.

Final words

Here’s the bottom line:

You don’t become the kind of person others admire just by living longer. You become that person by how you live—right now.

You stay curious. You laugh more. You listen deeper. You evolve even when it’s uncomfortable.

You take responsibility. You notice people. You don’t need to be the smartest in the room—just the most grounded.

And the good news? None of this requires perfection. Just intention.

Because over time, those small, intentional choices add up.

And when they do, you won’t have to hope people admire you.

They already will. Quietly. Genuinely.

The kind of admiration that isn’t shouted—but remembered.