'I'm 27 and competitive ageing is ruining my friendships.'

"Am I doomed to worry about ageing until the day I die?"

It was a question that stopped me in my tracks, after Jessie Stephens asked it on Mamamia's Out Loud podcast.

I'm only 27, and the thought of ageing is consuming me. Rather than revelling in my youth while it's here, I have anticipatory grief for when I do lose it.

It seems like a selfish thought in some ways. After all, ageing is a privilege that some don't get to experience. But I am a product of my time. 

As life expectancy increased with industrialisation, ageing became associated with decline, dependency, reduced societal value, and wrinkles.

Ahh yes, wrinkles. The least offensive word on the list, but the one that occupies my days — and my bank account.

Watch: Ageism explained. Post continues after video.

I was born in the same decade that retinol gained widespread popularity in over-the-counter skin products. I also grew up with YouTube, watching and replicating beauty influencers' 10-step skincare routines for ~youthful skin~.

Gone are the days when maintaining a healthy lifestyle and wearing sunscreen were the only ways to help prevent ageing. Now there's retinoids, antioxidants, exfoliation, and about 70 serums and creams that we should be alternating every morning and night.

"The barriers to looking eternally young-ish are only money, time and a sort of discipline, if it's important enough to you," said Holly Wainwright on Mamamia Out Loud.

"It seems now that, well, you could look young, so why wouldn't you? Despite all the many advances we've made in lots of areas about how we see women's choices… women getting older is still the scariest thing that any of us can imagine."

We've all seen this in action. From the 37-year-old woman who travelled to Turkey to get a face lift, to the TikToker in her late 20s who got a fox eye with a temporal lift, a forehead reduction, and a mid-face lift.

Until these procedures pop up on my social media, I am blissfully unaware they exist. But they always give me an extra insecurity to hyper-fixate on. I'll find myself tugging at the skin next to my eyes, wondering how I can get rid of my crows feet without booking a flight to Turkey.

It's a dangerously contagious mindset, and not one reserved for social media. Just this morning, I had a conversation with my friends about ageing.

"Should I get Botox now?" asked my 27-year-old friend.

"You're too young," replied a 28-year-old in our group. "Do everything in your power now to prevent wrinkles without Botox, and then you can get it later."

Everything in your power.

In an industry that is worth billions of dollars globally, 'everything in your power' is a frightening prospect. The options are endless. The other week, I spent $300 on skincare in one order — a purchase I had no business making a day before my rent was due.

And yet, I was proud of myself for "investing" in my skin. If these products meant that I got one more year of bartenders asking to see my ID, I would be happy.

Then my friend told me she had bought a red-light therapy panel and a bunch of chemical peels. I felt like a chump. How did I not know that ~this~ was the latest thing we should be doing to maintain our youth?!

Clearly, I was going to age much, much worse than my more skincare-literate friend.

Listen to the full episode of Mamamia Out Loud below.

"It becomes an arms race," said Mia Freedman on the Mamamia Out Loud podcast.

"When your peer group starts to all get it, and the age is getting younger and younger, it does become an arms race."

Of course, there is absolutely nothing wrong with reaching for anti-ageing products if it's what you want to do. Beauty is a you-do-you space. But when my friends look in the mirror and point out wrinkles on their foreheads, I automatically notice three more on mine.

"I'm ageing worse than them," I inwardly chastise. "I am losing the age race. Let me order a new retinoid."

This unspoken 'arms race' is exhausting, and one that places strain on our relationships. I am by no means an innocent bystander, but it does feel largely unavoidable when we are seeing 'new and improved!' anti-ageing products at every turn.

Indeed, if our parents and grandparents were this consumed with the prospect of ageing, they didn't have the choice paralysis that we face today.

"The only thing that was available were creams and a full face lift, which was something that old rich people and maybe celebrities got," said Mia on the podcast.

"It was not accessible. Now there are so many little tweakments that you can get, which is the on ramp to bigger and bigger procedures."

I was curious, so I asked my mum about her own skincare routine when she was my age.

"I used a few products, the standard 'cleanse, tone, moisturise,'" she told me.

"But there wasn't as much focus on preventing the ageing process. Maybe just some marketing with moisturisers about preventing 'fine lines'. Tweakments didn't exist and only Hollywood actresses had face lifts.

"There were no stores like Mecca or Sephora either. I went to a department store like Myer or David Jones, where all the beauty counters are, or just picked up stuff in Target. And most brands that exist now did not exist then.

"So it is overwhelming now. I'm overwhelmed now, and I don't think I was at your age."

If the options now make our heads spin, I wonder what kind of choices we'll face in the future. There will always be a new product, a new procedure, a new influencer convincing me to book a flight to Turkey, another friend telling me about a new skincare therapy to try.

I know that growing old is a privilege, and each wrinkle tells a story. I also know there's nothing wrong with choosing to do whatever I want to do with my face.

But as the world keeps telling me that 'old' is the worst thing I can be, I find myself scrambling to cling to my youth. Whether I truly care or have just been told to, regardless, I'm in the arms race now. And I don't know if there's a way out.

Feature Image: Supplied.