A common assumption holds that the most agreeable older adults are simply the ones who dodged life’s hardest blows. The reality, according to psychology, runs in the opposite direction. The people who become easier to be around with age are not the ones who suffered less — they are the ones who let suffering crack them open instead of shutting them down.

And that is not a one-time transformation. It is a choice remade daily, in ways so small nobody notices. But it changes everything.

The daily decision nobody talks about

Every significant hardship changes a person. That part is not optional. What is optional is the direction of that change.

Seth Meyers, Psy.D. has observed that bitter individuals often operate from a blaming, non-empathic perspective. Two people can endure the same losses and pressures; one builds walls, the other builds doors. The difference lies in whether the response to pain is contraction or expansion — and that micro-decision, repeated thousands of times across a lifetime, produces radically different people.

Why openness gets harder with age

Conventional wisdom suggests that accumulated experience should breed understanding. Yet psychologist Peter Borkenau has found that while people tend to become more reliable and agreeable with age, their openness to novelty drops at the same time.

That paradox matters. Agreeableness without openness produces rigidity disguised as pleasantness. Life keeps throwing curveballs well into old age, and without a willingness to adjust, people calcify around beliefs formed decades earlier.

The inheritance nobody talks about

Generational norms around emotional expression shape how people age. The “tough it out” ethos common in earlier generations was not strength — it was silence dressed as strength. Breaking that pattern requires conscious effort, often against deeply ingrained reflexes.

Research shows that higher levels of Openness to Experience in older adults are associated with better memory performance, suggesting this personality trait may help individuals adapt positively to aging. But developing that openness after a lifetime of emotional lockdown is among the hardest psychological work a person can undertake.

Small choices, big changes

Staying open is not a grand gesture. It is a hundred tiny decisions every week: catching a dismissive impulse before it lands, asking a genuine question instead of defaulting to small talk, admitting to being wrong about something held as certain the day before.

Studies indicate that Openness to Experience in older adults is linked to better cognitive functioning and a reduced rate of cognitive decline. What the data captures in aggregate plays out in real life as a series of micro-moments: choosing curiosity over dismissal, engagement over retreat.

The compound effect of staying soft

Ilene S. Cohen, Ph.D. notes that the ability to manage oneself in the presence of other people’s anxiety and difficult emotions can be practiced and strengthened within all relationships.

That capacity compounds. Each time curiosity wins over judgment, each time vulnerability wins over armor, the next instance becomes slightly easier. Not easy — easier.

A longitudinal study demonstrated that Openness to Experience positively affects cognitive aging in middle-aged and older adults. The people who stay curious, who keep learning, who admit they do not have all the answers — those are the ones who remain sharp, engaged, and growing.

Bottom line

Suffering is inevitable. Lost jobs, lost loves, lost health — that is simply life. The only variable is what happens next.

Hardship can make a person more closed off, more convinced the world is hostile. Or it can crack a person open, fostering greater curiosity about other people’s pain and a deeper willingness to admit uncertainty. The second path is harder, requiring sustained softness in a world that rewards hardening.

But it is the difference between aging into someone people seek out and aging into someone people merely tolerate. The choice happens in moments so small they barely register — yet they compound, day by day, into the person someone ultimately becomes.