The latest revelation blowing minds across social media? Nicola Coughlan’s age. The actor is known for playing teenage characters, school girl Clare Devlin in Derry Girls and a debutante – Penelope Bridgerton – in Bridgerton. And yet, she’s actually significantly older than the character she plays: aged 37. For some reason, this information has suddenly become common knowledge on the internet, trending across X with users posting gifs of people looking shocked, alongside ‘Nicola Coughlan’s age’.

Of course, adult actors playing secondary-school-aged characters isn’t all that unusual. At the age of 29, Darren Barnet portrayed 18-year-old Paxton in the series Never Have I Ever, while Emma Thompson, then 36, portrayed 19-year-old Elinor Dashwood in Sense & Sensibility. Leonardo DiCaprio was 28 when he played 17-year-old Frank in Catch Me If You Can. The list goes on.

The question is, why are we talking about this now? It’s also not exactly new information – Coughlan rose to fame when these series began in 2018 (Derry Girls) and 2020 (Bridgerton), respectively. Nor has Coughlan’s age been a secret. Yet it’s only now, that she’s officially entered her late 30s, that it’s reached internet lore.

The reason it’s suddenly reached newsworthy status is, apparently, because 37 is officially ‘old’. “As if 37 makes you a dusty aul crone”, commented one X user, noticing the popular discourse around Coughlan’s age. “37 is definitely not old and everyone is acting like it is,” said another.

Which, as someone approaching my 33rd birthday and still getting IDed, I find a slightly grim take. Should I expect the same literally jaw-dropping response in a few years? Quite likely, yes; in fact, I already have, a couple of times, from twentysomethings at parties. And yet, it doesn’t feel good now – and I have a feeling it’s not a reaction that’s going to “mature like fine wine”, either.

I’m aware, according to received wisdom, that looking young is supposed to be a good thing. That you might even be congratulated for it. That you might be inclined to tell yourself it’s, somehow, meritocratic and start instinctively expressing gratitude for your chosen brand of retinol.

Yet, receiving these shocked reactions is a double-edged sword, especially as women, who are constantly made to believe that ageing is something to be afraid of, or reminded of our biological clocks. Being told you “don’t look your age” perpetuates this cultural understanding. Implicitly, it nudges us towards believing your real age is something to be ashamed of, to fear.

Nor do I think the same ‘shock’ factor would surround a young-looking male actor’s age. For instance, despite the constant Hollywood in-joke around how Paul Rudd never ages, I would have no idea what his age is (55). And yet, every newspaper headline I see about Jennifer Aniston – who is exactly the same age – references how old she is, usually with a reference to her visually defying her age (I just checked, for reference – and, sure enough, “Jennifer Aniston, 55, looks half her age”).

Ludicrously, it feels like these comments are fair game from women from the age 30 and beyond, such as recent discourse that Taylor Swift “ages like fine wine”. We’re even judging ourselves from within, with Julia Fox posting a crying video of herself on her 27th birthday, claiming “30 is f***ing old” in the entertainment industry. Coughlan herself recently suggested, in an essay for Harper’s Bazaar, that the only way to avoid media scrutiny as a woman is to: “Be permanently 22 years old”.

It also undermines the flip side: what you gain with age. In my case, that’s confidence, self-assurance, an awareness of what I have to offer in my professional and personal life. I wouldn’t go back to being a teenager if you paid me – and, I’ll bet you, neither would Nicola Coughlan. Ageing is a privilege, and one that, the older you get, experience teaches you not to take for granted. I can’t help thinking of the handful of people in my wider circle who would have been grateful to see their 30th birthday, but tragically didn’t get the chance to.

The irony of it all is, Coughlan really is inspirational for defying her age – but not because of her “youth-defying complexion”, or however the tabloids are terming it. She entered the world of acting aged 30, with a major role in what’s become an Emmy-winning television series (Derry Girls). This, after getting turned down multiple times for drama school in her early twenties, and instead going on to work in retail after realising she wouldn’t score any adult roles. She was working at an optician’s office when she got the role as Clare in Derry Girls. This was a role she fought for, compiling a whole notebook in preparation, prompting the show’s writer, Lisa McGee, to comment at the time “You’ve done more work than me on this character” (this, according to a profile in The New York Times).

While 30 is not old by any stretch of the imagination, it’s notable that the acting industry is dominated by people in their early twenties, with many actors beginning in childhood or in their teenage years. Being able to persevere as a relatively late starter in an industry which overwhelmingly rewards youth, and even to subvert that value system through (as Coughlan has done) finding your niche in playing teenagers, is the worthier conversation we should be having about Coughlan’s age. Or, better still? None at all.