Aliza Sherman: She Knows Social and Mobile

Blog Party: Truth, Lies and Age - By Reid Sullivan

Guest blog post and blog party participation by Reid Sullivan - www.familytimes.biz

Far from being a prodigy (like Aliza, say*), I have always been a late bloomer. For most big decisions, and even small ones, I usually have had to research, analyze, evaluate, dither. Dither some more. And then finally—eek—DO SOMETHING. Sometimes this can take me years.

So I graduated from college without a job lined up, and I then took five years to figure out what kind of career I might be interested in. I decided to go back to school, get a master’s degree and become a journalist. Then I worked as a journalist for 10 years.

In my mid-30s decided that maybe I might like to be married and even have a child.

I managed to find a boyfriend and--surprisingly quickly for me—marry him. I was 38.

And, again, bent on this new seize-the-day attitude, I had a baby. I was 40.

And, contrary to all I’d been led to believe about my chances of achieving this, I even had another baby. I was 42.

So now I’m a married mother of two little kids, one 4 years old and one 20 months old. Yes, I’m 44.

And being an older mother is not easy. But being a mother is never easy, and I would argue that it wouldn’t be a lot easier if I were in my 20s. (Yes, if I had to do it all over again, I might choose to be 28 when I got married. But I’m happy with my life, my husband and my boys, and if I’d been 28 when I got married and embarked on starting a family, that would all be different. I might even be divorced by now.)

I don’t lie about my age. I’m letting my hair go gray—naturally, not like the New York fashionistas who are getting gray streaks to make a statement.

I have made peace with most aspects of my life. This is what my history of very deliberate decision-making has done for me—I am satisfied with my choices. I’ve evaluated the pros and the cons. I know what’s what.

I see the humor in it. You can’t be a parent without a sense of humor. You’d go crazy. (Or, crazier, anyway.)

So when a woman at the playground asked if my husband and I were my son’s grandparents, I said, “No, we’re just very old parents.”

And I laughed.

*Editors Note: hahahahahahaha

What are YOUR experiences with truth, lies and age?

Blog Party: Truth, Lies and Age

I'm inviting YOU to be part of my blog party. I have no idea what a blog party is but it is probably like a blog carnival in a way.

Basically, I wanted to write about a topic but also encourage others to write about the same topic in their own way - whatever that topic means to them - and then we can read one another's posts, comment on them, share them with one another and with our Friends, Fans and Followers, and overall stimulate conversations.

My Blog Topic:

Truth, Lies, and Age

What does that mean to you?

All you have to do is blog about it and call it:

Blog Party: Truth, Lies and Age

Then paste this at the top of your post:

This post is part of a Blog Party. Read the original post.

Then make sure to comment on my post and include a link to your post by the same name with a URL.

Then visit some of the other posts in the party and comment, promote, conversify!

And on with the post...

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Truth, Lies and Age

or "I was a young, hot geek girl"

In the 90s, I lied about my age. Not that I was a liar or ashamed of my age - I was 30 - but I was asked to lie about my age by a reporter. He wanted to include me in Swing magazine's Most Powerful People in Their 20s roundup and cover story. I told him I was 32, almost 33.

"Can't you just say you're 29? We can't find any young woman with a successful Internet company, and we really want to include you," he said.

"But I'm not 29. I'm in my 30s," I replied.

"Nobody will know," he assured me and told me that I'd be included on the list that include an up-and-coming young golfer named Tiger Woods. I had no idea who he was.

Here was my own internal debate trying to decide what I should do:

I don't lie.

This isn't really a bad lie, is it?

If I lie about my age, I'll get in the magazine news story.

Why is that important?

Because the more women, the more people, who see a woman at the helm of an Internet company, the better for women overall.

But it's lying.

But who will really care that you shaved a few years off your age?

It's a credibility issue.

But by the time people are in an uproar about you lying, at least you'll have THAT much more attention on your efforts to help women succeed through technology.

My business partner at the time told me to go for it. Any press was good press.

I agreed to do the interview and be featured.

And nobody was the wiser. Nobody really cared. They were excited to see a woman Internet geek. That interview led to more interviews. Those who knew my real age didn't care that I had lied - they were thrilled that I was in a glossy magazine. They laughed at the age "mistake."

The only downside - other than lying - was that the editors of a horribly inaccurate book called The Internet: A Historical Encyclopedia. Part 1, Biographies apparently relied on this and other inaccurate information on the Internet to compile a chapter describing my role in Internet history. Shoddy editing. Shoddier journalism I now realize to tell someone you interview to lie about something so they can include you in a story. And yes, shoddy that I lied.

I'd love to say this was the first time I lied on the behest of a reporter, but I was also convinced to lie about my company's revenues back in the 90s. The reporter was looking for a woman-owned Internet company with revenues over a million. We were at $695,000.

"Can't you just say a million?" he asked.

"But we aren't at a million yet."

"If you aren't at a million then we can't include you in the piece - and we really want a woman who owns an Internet company." 

Go for it, said my former business partner. He was convinced we'd hit and surpass a million "any day now."

So once again, I lied. And they put me on the cover of the magazine. 

What do I regret?

It isn't really the fact that I lied that bothers me so much. It was that I let others convince me to lie and that I wasn't "good enough" as a 33-year-old woman with the first woman-owned full-service Internet company with revenues of over half a million in the 90s. I was a novelty but just wasn't good enough.

I regret that I began dying my hair for fear of being "too old" in the new media industry. Yes, I had gray hair (pointed out in yet another article about me for a Newsweek-related publication) and finally chose to color it to be more "palatable" on television and on the keynote and lecture circuit. I talked a little about the disadvantage of being a gray-haired female as opposed to a gray-haired male in this Associated Press news story.

I regret that I put myself out there as a "20-something" woman with a million dollar company even thought I was told I was an inspiration for thousands and thousands of women because it should have been just as inspiring to be my age and to have a self-sustaining Internet company.

I regret I simply did not feel good enough back then.

These days, I am me. I am not a number. I am not a specific hair color. I am not what you expect, and I'm not going to be who you want me to be. And yet I'm 45, and I dye my hair pink. I have a new company on track to be a million dollar social media business in the not-so-distant future.

This is who I am today. And I'm damn proud of it.

Why do you think we lie about our age? Why have you?