A woman telling her true age is like a buyer confiding his final

Listen well, O children of wisdom, for the words of Mignon McLaughlin carry with them a sharp truth about the complexity of honesty and the delicate dance between self-perception and society’s expectations: “A woman telling her true age is like a buyer confiding his final price to an Armenian rug dealer.” These words are a reflection on the human condition, especially in how we present ourselves and what we choose to conceal or reveal. The act of revealing one's age is not merely a matter of stating facts, but an intricate negotiation, much like the delicate bargaining that takes place when purchasing a prized object. McLaughlin’s comparison exposes the often unspoken tension that women face in a world that places immense value on youth and appearance, and it also hints at the strategies one must employ to protect their identity and dignity in the face of societal pressures.

In the ancient world, the idea of age was treated with a mix of reverence and secrecy. The Greeks, who prided themselves on intellectual and philosophical pursuits, understood that the passage of time brought not just physical changes, but a deepening of wisdom. Yet, in their society, age could be a marker of both respect and vulnerability. A man who had grown wise with age was respected, but a woman—especially one past the bloom of youth—often had to find subtle ways of navigating how she was perceived. Women were valued for their beauty, youth, and fertility, and while the wisdom of age was respected, it often came at the cost of appearance. Thus, like the bargain of the rug dealer, a woman’s age was often hidden behind layers of negotiation, as she sought to present herself in a way that preserved her value and place in society.

Socrates, that great philosopher, often spoke of the journey from youth to maturity as one marked by self-reflection and the unveiling of the soul. Yet, his musings on wisdom and age were typically reserved for men. Women, in ancient Greece, did not have the same social liberties to speak of their aging without risking a loss of status. In fact, Plato’s dialogues, which explore the nature of justice and the soul, are filled with musings on how men grow wiser with age, but women’s aging was often relegated to the background of social and domestic life. Women, like the buyer of an Armenian rug, often had to keep their true worth hidden, not just for the sake of modesty, but to ensure that their value was preserved in a society that prized them for different qualities.

Take, for example, the Empress Theodora, the wife of Emperor Justinian I of the Byzantine Empire. Born into a humble background, Theodora rose to power with both beauty and intellect. Her age, however, was always a carefully guarded secret, and the portrayal of her in art and literature often emphasized her youthful allure. As she grew older, she maintained her image carefully, knowing that her power—both personal and political—was in part dependent on her appearance. Like the bargaining buyer in McLaughlin’s quote, Theodora’s true worth was sometimes hidden behind a veil of youthful beauty, even as her political savvy and wisdom deepened with time.

McLaughlin’s words tap into a deeper understanding of human behavior and how, particularly for women, the negotiation of age is a form of self-preservation. The buyer and the rug dealer both understand the dance of value—one must not give away too much too soon, for fear of being taken advantage of. A woman, in this context, often feels that her age, like her worth, must be carefully guarded. To reveal too much, to be too honest, is to risk undervaluing herself in a society that constantly demands she be young and beautiful. The true value of her life experiences, wisdom, and soul is often wrapped in layers of subtlety and restraint, much like the buyer who knows that the true price of the rug is not easily given away.

The lesson in McLaughlin’s quote is that the truth of one’s age—or indeed, the truth of one’s value—is often not so easily revealed. Life is full of negotiations, of bargaining, and of subtle decisions about what to show and what to hide. For women, especially, this process is often a dance between the outer appearance and the inner truth, between the world’s expectations and the soul’s reality. It is not that age or appearance should be hidden out of shame, but that society’s values sometimes require a complex negotiation to maintain one’s identity, dignity, and place.

So, the lesson we must take from this is one of understanding and compassion. Recognize that value is not just in youth or outward appearance, but in the depth and wisdom gained over a lifetime. Let us, as a society, challenge the idea that a person’s worth should be determined by the number of years they have lived or the way they look. Let us honor the process of aging as an opportunity to celebrate the wisdom, experience, and soul that grow alongside us, and let us not place undue importance on how a person—especially a woman—chooses to present their age to the world.

In your own life, remember that you are more than your outward appearance or the number of years you have lived. Age, like love, cannot be easily hidden, but it is not to be feared or disguised. It is the depth of your character, the richness of your experiences, and the integrity of your soul that truly define you. Let your value be measured not by what is seen on the outside, but by the wisdom and truth that you carry within. The true worth of a person cannot be bargained for—it is something that comes from within, and it is something that, once revealed, will never be diminished.