People still hold your old file

Someone offered again, or assumed, or said the thing they always say. An uncle held one out without looking up. A friend walked toward the door and tipped their head at you, certain. A cousin told a story about you from six years ago as if it were current news. None of them meant anything by it. They are working from a file they last updated a long time ago, and the file has your old label on the front.

The reflex is to correct the record on the spot, with dates and numbers, until they agree. Try skipping that. Their paperwork is not where you are stored. You could spend a whole holiday updating twelve people and be exactly as free at the end of it as you were at the start. A quiet no thanks settles the moment. Accuracy does not require an audience, and the version of you that needs everyone to confirm the change is still asking permission to have changed.

There is a second reason to let their files go stale. Arguing the point puts the old label back in the middle of the room, and now the whole table is discussing whether you smoke. Silence updates people faster than announcements. Three gatherings from now the uncle stops holding one out, because his hand learned something his memory had not. You did nothing to teach him except keep being what you are. God already has the current record, and His is the only one that decides anything.

So pick your sentence now, before the next time, and make it short enough to say without heat. 'No thanks, I am good.' That is the whole thing. No date, no story, no case for the defense. Then change the subject to them, which is what they wanted anyway. You are allowed to be current while other people are out of date. Their file will catch up on its own, or it will not, and either way you are already the newer version.