I'm 56 but look years younger. The reason I look so good? I don't have children. Before the inevitable pile-on begins, there IS evidence that having kids turbocharges ageing: INGE VAN LOTRINGEN

My sore joints and inability to remember anyone’s name may tell a different story, but my face doesn’t look 56 and neither does my body. 

Now post-menopausal, a vertiginous plummeting of my oestrogen – and therefore collagen levels – ought to have left me with dangly skin and deep grooves. But the reckoning I expected around this age simply hasn’t materialised.

Sure enough, things are not quite what they used to be, with plump tautness making way for thinning crepiness in the weirdest of places – earlobes, inner elbows and that dip between your collarbones. But I’m still beating Mother Nature in the visible ageing stakes, judging from the general air of surprise when I tell people my birth year.

People often ask me how I look so much younger – and part of my answer has proved somewhat controversial.

Yes, I was lucky enough to inherit good genes from my dermally blessed dad. And I’m not just imagining that: I’ve had several DNA tests that measure your propensity for genetic skin ageing and they routinely report that mine is below average, having me roughly at five years below my biological age.

There’s effort, too. I’ve cleansed, moisturised and SPF’d for most of my life, knowing that consistent preventative care is the key to long-term protection against the ravages of environmental (UV, pollution, partying, stress) skin ageing.

And there’s cheating: as a beauty journalist, I have access to the whole mushrooming gamut of cosmetic ‘tweakments’, though I’ve been careful on the uptake, knowing full well how easy it is to end up looking like a desperado. In fact, I’m roughly on a par with many of my peers in terms of ‘work’. Despite what people like to assume, for example, I have no fillers in my face and no Botox in my forehead (although I do have it in my neck, between my eyebrows to soften my angry frown, and in my top lip for minimal added fullness).

'My sore joints and inability to remember anyone¿s name may tell a different story, but my face doesn¿t look 56 and neither does my body,' writes INGE VAN LOTRINGEN

'My sore joints and inability to remember anyone’s name may tell a different story, but my face doesn’t look 56 and neither does my body,' writes INGE VAN LOTRINGEN

'I think there¿s a reason I look younger. And, dare I say it, that¿s simply because I haven¿t had children ¿ by choice'

'I think there’s a reason I look younger. And, dare I say it, that’s simply because I haven’t had children – by choice'

Plus, don’t underestimate the youth-preserving powers of HRT, which I’ve been on for five years through the NHS.

But I think there’s another – far more contentious – reason I look younger. And, dare I say it, that’s simply because I haven’t had children – by choice.

I never dreamed of or hoped for kids, and as the minimum a child deserves is to be its parents’ dearest wish, the topic was always a moot point for me and my husband.

Of course, not having children put me in the minority among friends and colleagues. And as I watched them accumulate babies, I also watched them change.

Usually, their fresh-faced looks remained unaffected in their 30s, give or take the first haggard year with each newborn. But in their 40s, ageing seemed to accelerate. Their wrinkles were more evident, their age spots were quicker to develop, while sagging jowls and a loosening neck were upon them years before I clocked anything vaguely similar in my own appearance.

And it wasn’t a case of me snickering at their bad luck behind my ageless hand – they noticed it themselves, squarely laying the blame for their crow’s feet at the feet of their offspring and the stress they’d caused them through the years. With an indulgent smile, naturally, but still.

My own gran, after giving birth to 13 children, died in her early 60s, and I always assumed her body was simply worn out by producing so many small humans.

Frankly, I don’t see how you’re going to age ten years if you’re holding down a job while battling the education, childcare and healthcare systems. Juggling all that alongside sleep deprivation, relationship challenges, school runs, bullies, teenage angst and social media threats would make my head explode with anxiety.

It’s not like a life without kids is free from similar stresses, but they don’t come with the weight of responsibility to solve them for someone who depends on you.

My husband and I have always felt that not having children leaves you free to not quite grow up yourself. We can selfishly imagine we’re still 25 and worry about nothing but ourselves and each other (aside from parents, friends, pets and the world, but let’s put that aside). For one, it’s meant no major upheavals or feelings of neglect between us, still happily chugging along very much like we did 30 years ago.

No small children have ever joined us in bed (although the cat does). Life-affirming passions have been indulged without reservation: I’m sure I would have had something to say about my husband’s decades of racing classic cars, and he in turn about my years of jetting off to fabulous destinations, had we had kids – but we had no reason to cramp each other’s style.

Arguments are thrashed out without delay or time to fester because of more important child-related issues. As for the big blows that have and will come – bereavements, financial insecurity, illness – we can be the rock of undivided attention the other one requires. It all helps keep love and (perceived) youth alive.

Of course having the time and disposable income for so-called ‘self-care’ is another major youth-preserving factor.

'It¿s undeniable that the rigours of child-rearing - which can result in sleep loss, lack of time for exercise and poor nutrition - wind the clock forward for mothers'

'It’s undeniable that the rigours of child-rearing - which can result in sleep loss, lack of time for exercise and poor nutrition - wind the clock forward for mothers'

I shell out £800 a year on gym fees in the name of self-improvement, and on top of my £2,000 annual skincare habit, I love my ‘tweakments’, such as skin-hydrating injections, the aforementioned Botox sessions and brightening Debbie Thomas DNA laser facials, at roughly £400, £750 and £500 respectively, three times each a year.

Last year I had the collagen-boosting Julaine biostimulator injected across multiple areas of my face and neck, taking my skin from thinning and on the verge of sagging to looking and feeling dense and juicy. People noticed (thankfully, as it cost £4,500) – I’ve been told my cheeks ‘look like a baby’s’ (a stretch, but I’ll take it).

I even went under the knife in 2024, plumping for an upper eyelid blepharoplasty (or eye lift) to correct the tired, drooping lids that were going the way of my mum’s. It was, in expert hands, surprisingly low on downtime, with recovery taking just a week – but that’s still seven days that most mums can’t spare. It set me back a huge £7,000 but having my 30-something eyes looking back at me actually gives me energy.

And I mustn’t forget my regular haircuts and highlights at about £900 a year.

All told, my regular beauty regime costs over £5,000 annually, which can double if you add expensive, one-off treatments. I’m fully aware how big a part this self-indulgence plays in my holding back the years – something most mums neither would nor could allow themselves.

But it’s also undeniable that the rigours of child-rearing wind the clock forward for mothers. Sleep loss, lack of time for exercise, poor nutrition and inadequate emotional support all have well-established effects on inflammation, metabolic health and, ultimately, healthy ageing. It must be particularly galling for mums – not only is life more stressful, but they’re punished for it with crow’s feet.

Sleep deprivation in particular takes its toll on your system. On average, studies show, new mothers lose between one and two hours of sleep a night in the first year of their babies’ lives. Women’s health doctor Dr Jo Mennie cites a 2021 UCLA study proving that a lack of postpartum sleep ‘predicted increased biological ageing a year after giving birth’.

This is backed up by what we know about sleep deprivation in general, she says: shorter, poorer, more irregular sleep damages DNA and impairs internal DNA repair – meaning creaking bones, failing memories and wrinkles... ageing, in other words.

It’s not only mothers (and dads) who suffer sleep deprivation, of course. I’ve struggled with insomnia for 18 years, and I can definitely argue that I’ve slept less over this time than many of my mum friends. So, on the face of it, I should look 95. However, I’ve also had the freedom to recover whenever, and however, I needed. And that recovery can make all the difference.

Lie-ins, long runs, daily yoga, vegetating in front of the telly all weekend, impromptu holidays and mini breaks, all-nighters spent with friends and/or my husband and wine – it’s all been available on tap to me with no interruption and, very importantly, no guilt.

'Having the time and disposable income for so-called ¿self-care¿ is a major youth-preserving factor'

'Having the time and disposable income for so-called ‘self-care’ is a major youth-preserving factor'

Apart from sleep, Mennie reckons that regular resistance training, consistent sun protection and limited alcohol consumption are important levers for longevity and youthfulness. Add a healthy diet with sufficient protein intake, close social connections and a lack of psychological stress (which, studies show, is as ageing as being a smoker), and you’ve got the best chance of living a long, healthy – and age-defying – life.

They’re habits I’ve been able to practice (well, minus the sleep) without compromise. For over-taxed mothers, however, they’re some of the first things to fall by the wayside. In that respect, I’ve probably had the edge in terms of keeping up youthful appearances.

But lifestyle factors aren’t the only reason mums may age faster than non-mums. There’s a clinically documented trade-off between the energy you need to produce babies and the energy the body needs to repair and regenerate itself (the former sapping the latter), although this primarily applies to those with six or more kids. It explains some of the turbocharged biological ageing in mothers with a large brood of children. I knew it, Granny!

In addition, Mennie reveals that pregnancy really does take a toll directly on your skin. While the damage it wreaks on the entirety of the body’s systems typically is reversed soon after giving birth, she explains, skin cells don’t get that benefit. The precipitous drop in oestrogen after childbirth goes hand-in-hand with a sudden freeze in the production of collagen: that pregnancy ‘glow’ turns into the dull, flaky skin of new motherhood. Breastfeeding delays renewed production of collagen yet further. ‘So while your system may not suffer, your face can tell a different story,’ says Mennie.

Weight gain can be another issue. According to the NHS, most pregnant women put on up to 2 stone. Dramatically fluctuating weight, particularly in successive pregnancies, plus the rigours of breastfeeding, will also make a difference to the tautness and elasticity of skin. 

In other words, there’s some real proof that having kids causes accelerated visible ageing. Not that my friends with children were too surprised.

But, I tell them, all the more reason for some well-earned mummy me-time. It might even make you look younger.

How to look younger for less 

As a beauty journalist, I've tried lots of expensive treatments and tweakments over the years. And yes, I do spend £2,000 on skincare annually. But, while I am partial to a pricey serum, I know for a fact that an effective skincare regime doesn’t have to cost a fortune. In fact, the best advice for turning your skin around and making you look radiant at any age – whether you have children or not - is based on affordable staples. Here is my pick of the best ones…  

A cheap and cheerful cleanser 

CeraVE cleaner  
A skin barrier-respecting facial cleanser (no soap! It’ll strip your skin) twice a day is crucial. Look to CeraVE, which is guaranteed to be gentle and effective and has a range of cleansers to suit different skin types (from £9.37, boots.com).
From £9.73
There is no youthful-looking skin with out daily facial UV protection all year round and, if you commit to this, you can actually reverse signs of ageing over time. The choice is huge (and includes plenty of weightless, non-oily textures), but, personally, I swear by Ultrasun SPF50+ anti-ageing Face Fluids. Or La Roche Posay is another reliable brand. But whatever SPF you use, the most important thing is to wear it daily - rain or shine.

Personalised skincare (without the price tag) 

One smart way to tackle signs of ageing is Klira, an online subscription service offering bespoke prescription skincare formulations alongside personalised advice from its dermatologists. Your freshly-made treatment is delivered monthly and features clinical actives such as tretinoin and azelaic acid, with dosing adjusted over time to suit your needs. 

It costs £59 a month (klira.skin), which may be on the more expensive side, but will save you money in the long term. It’s designed to be your single night moisturiser, giving you everything you need and so avoiding convoluted routines which can end up costing a small fortune. 

I can tell you from experience it’s as effective as it is as cost-effective, and far cheaper than seeing a private dermatologist. Alternatively, The Inkey List Advanced Retinal Serum is a good and affordable age-defying vitamin A formula for nighttime - always pair with an SPF by day. I also like the brand’s gentle and plumping Bioactive Ceramide Eye Cream.

It costs £59 a month, which may be on the more expensive side, but will save you money in the long term. It’s designed to be your single night moisturiser, giving you everything you need and so avoiding convoluted routines which can end up costing a small fortune. 

Original source I'm 56 but look years younger. The reason I look so good? I don't have children. Before the inevitable pile-on begins, there IS evidence that having kids turbocharges ageing: INGE VAN LOTRINGEN

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