I’ll Never… (And Other Promises We Were Never Meant to Keep)

I’ve recently learned that I am a Baby Boomer. This came as a surprise. Not because I don’t know when I was born, but because I’m not entirely sure who is in charge of assigning these labels or what exactly they mean. Apparently, I made the cutoff by a matter of months. Had I arrived just a little later, I would have been Generation X, which sounds vaguely cooler and less likely to be blamed for everything from the economy to that decorative soap no one is allowed to use.

Instead, I’ve been placed in a category. A large one. With opinions I don’t remember agreeing to.

And that seems to be how things work now. We’ve gone from being individuals with personalities and interests, to neatly labeled groups with shared characteristics and assigned flaws. Boomers are this. Millennials are that. Gen Z is… well, I’m still trying to figure that one out. But what I find more interesting than the labels themselves is how firmly people define themselves by what they will never become.

Things We Said with Confidence

Spend enough time listening, and you’ll hear it:

“I’ll never buy a minivan.”

“I’ll never get a recliner.”

“I’ll never cut bangs.”

“I’ll never eat dinner at 5:00.”

“I’ll never go to bed early and wake up early.”

“I’ll never need a crockpot. Air fryers are so much better.”

“I’ll never name a baby girl an old lady name like Susan or Lisa. Let’s go with Esther or Edith!”

A young friend of mine once declared she would only own a minivan “when hell froze over.”

A few years and three children later, she pulled into the school parking lot in one. Vanity license plate and all.

It read: IT FROZE.

I’ve noticed something interesting about that particular promise. The same people who declare they will never drive a minivan will proudly climb into an SUV that looks suspiciously like one: just with doors that don’t slide and with significantly less ability to haul a twin XL mattress. A minivan, as it turns out, is not a vehicle. It’s a lifestyle of confident stubbornness. It says, “Yes, I can move you out of your dorm, into your apartment, back home for the summer, and then into your first house, without requiring a friend who owns a truck.”

But sure. Let’s call the SUV cool.

What Changed (and Why It Matters)

There’s a confidence to it. A certainty. A quiet belief that these choices belong to “other people.” Older people. People who, somehow, have lost their way simply by aging.

I understand this because, at one time, I had my own list. Back then, I thought the height of technology was a cordless phone and a good answering machine. I don’t remember all of it, but I’m fairly certain my list included phrases like, “I’ll never plan my evening around the release of a show on TV,” and “I’ll never get excited about buying new sheets,” and quite possibly, “I’ll never say no to fashion trends except maybe those clunky Crocs©.”

And yet.

Here I am, fully capable of planning my evening around a comfortable chair, a new season of Ted Lasso, and a good night’s sleep. I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. It turns out, many of the things we swear we’ll never do aren’t signs of decline. They’re upgrades. They are proof that we’ve lived through those uncertain times.

• A recliner isn’t giving up. It’s support.
• Going to bed early isn’t the end of fun. It’s the beginning of feeling like a functional human being the next day, and coffee in the early morning is THE BEST. I wrote about it here: Early Bird.
• Cutting bangs (professionally done) is basically budget plastic surgery.
• And that crockpot? It humbly produces dinner while you live your life, which feels less like “grandma” and more like “genius.”

Lucky to Be Outdated

Now I’m told that Facebook is for “older people,” while younger generations have moved on to TikTok and whatever comes next.

Which is fine.

But I can’t help thinking… If you’re lucky, you’ll live long enough to be considered outdated, too.

Somewhere along the way, the “I’ll never” list starts to shift. Not all at once, but gradually and without announcement. You try something. You like it. You become the person you once swore you wouldn’t be, and realize, with a bit of surprise, that you don’t mind at all.

Maybe the problem isn’t that younger people are quick to label older generations or certain habits (or my name) as “old.” Maybe it’s just that they haven’t had the chance yet to understand them. Because aging isn’t about becoming someone else. It’s about becoming someone who knows what works and isn’t afraid to choose it.

Even if it involves a recliner, dinner at five, and a minivan parked in the driveway.

Maybe all those “I’ll never” promises weren’t failures after all.

Maybe they were just placeholders…

…waiting patiently for the life we hadn’t lived yet.

Let’s Have a Conversation:

What’s something you swore you’d never do because “that’s what old people do” … that you now do with zero shame (and maybe a little enthusiasm)? At what exact moment did you realize you had officially become the person you used to roll your eyes at, and what were you doing?