Some people say that when women hit middle age, they start disappearing.
Their families may need them less as the kids become more independent. Men no longer look at women in midlife with the same attraction. People move by without a second glance. It's easy to think the best years of your life have passed you by.
Some women finally need to face unresolved trauma. Perhaps a volatile relationship they never fully dealt with, which manifests as a crisis of identity. It could be grief that has been set on the back burner but now needs to be addressed. It may even be a friendship that is so out of sorts that it weighs you down.
Health issues can also play a significant role during this time. As our physical and mental well-being changes, we can feel uneasy and uncomfortable in this new skin. Sometimes this causes us to pull back from the people and things we love, causing us to feel increased pangs of loneliness, anxiety and depression.
And I get it. Midlife is messy. We are often launching our kids into the world while caring for our parents in the sunset of their lives. We are trying to figure out what is happening to our bodies, to our relationships, to the lives we once knew. We often wonder what comes next. It is exhausting.
It’s like being lost at sea without any of your navigational tools. You constantly look up at the stars to help steer you on the right course, but the night is cloudy.
You are lost.
And it often feels embarrassing. You should know how to get yourself out of this place. You have lived a lot of years; you have experienced a lot of challenges; you have survived.
But this is unknown territory. The tools you’ve used in the first half of your life don’t necessarily get you through in this phase. You are like a newborn giraffe on wobbly legs, taking your first steps at dawn.
Except you're tired and haggard and anxious all of the time. You have hair growing out of weird places and a spare tire around your belly, and you just can’t remember your neighbor’s name all of a sudden, so you spend an entire conversation trying to recall that instead of engaging in the discussion about the book she’s recommending.
“I used to be smart,” you tell yourself. “I used to remember things.”
And you were. And you still are. But life just looks so different.
It is a weird place to be.
It's easy to ask what I've done with the last 53 years and to look back with regrets. It would be easy to look ahead in fear of what's to come.
I haven't run a marathon. I'm not in the best shape of my life. I haven't written that novel or traveled across the globe. I still don't like getting up early, and I still leave my clothes at the foot of my bed each night instead of the hamper in my closet six feet away (why am I like this?)
I could ask myself today, "What have I really done over the last 50 years? What great things have I accomplished? What will my legacy be?"
But I've repaired broken relationships and set boundaries with people who bring chaos to my life.
I learned that fixing the challenging things in my life always starts with fixing myself first.
I know that giving grace and leading with compassion at every single juncture allows me to sleep better at night.
And I love my people--all people--well. I am the most proud of that.
Sometimes I wonder if I should be trying harder, doing it better, going further, searching for more.
But in this messy midlife, the dreams of my youth are different from my dreams of today. I'm not seeking happiness; I'm living the life I have built with those I love, with those who love me, whatever that looks like on any given day.
Sometimes that means big plans for trips or projects or transitions. Sometimes that means reading a book alongside my daughter on our front porch.
I'm leaning into the hard parts of people, and instead of wanting to change them, I want to understand them. I'm not looking to change the world anymore but trying to change one person's world every day.
I'm not trying to hide who I am, and I'm trying to show up for whoever needs me.
And I know you don't have to do great things to have a great life. And you don't have to have a great life to be grateful.
Peace means looking in the mirror each night and liking the person who smiles back at me.
And that's something.
I don't wonder what or who I want to be anymore. Midlife is finding comfort in who I already am. It's not that I'm looking to do something great with my life; instead, I want to do small things that have a great impact.
It's showing up at wakes and helping with your friend's kids' college applications. It's driving three hours to surprise your friend for her birthday, then rushing home to get your daughter ready to leave for college. It's sitting by your spouse's side for surgery and then bringing your neighbor a meal because they are struggling.
These things aren’t big or life-changing, but they do bring meaning. I like that.
There are gaps in midlife that are impossible to prepare for, challenging to navigate. You need to manage a body that feels out of control, you need to fill your time in new ways, you need to care for your people in a totally different capacity.
Midlife can feel empty sometimes, but you can’t let the darkness swallow you whole. Instead, look for light. Fill the voids in meaningful ways. Give yourself incredible amounts of grace.
Instead of seeking purpose, seek peace.
I still need reminders to remain content with my life, and I still need to remember not to get caught up in other people's crazy or expectations or righteous indignation. Sometimes I get anxious that I’m not doing enough, but this life is not measured in achievement. It is measured in how you made people feel.
This guides me in midlife when I feel lost. It is the best navigational tool I own.
I want to take advantage of all that midlife has to offer—when I'm not focused on becoming, but instead being satisfied with who I became.
My goals for myself are simple. I hope to be accepting: of people, of actions outside of my control, of myself—every part of myself. I want to keep learning about issues, about others' way of living, about the world around me. I hope I keep my heart open to listening to other people's stories, and I hope I can continue sharing my own. I hope I can make just one person feel a little less alone, so I can fill my own heart up, too.
But most importantly, I hope I continue to love hard, my family my people, my life regardless of what stage of it I’m in.
I don't need the attention I craved in my younger years, I don't need to be seen. I'm okay living in the cluttered background of this chaotic, noisy world.
You may not see me when I walk by, but I will always be where I am needed in whatever way I can.
Midlife will not swallow me, but I don’t need to fight it either.
This is my messy midlife. It's not what I expected.
It's better.
With you,
Whitney
P.S. Last Friday, I took my three daughters to see Noah Kahan in Pittsburgh. He is one of my all-time favorite artists, mainly because of his songwriting. He is such a gifted storyteller. One of the songs that touches me most is “Call Your Mom”. It is a heartfelt song about supporting someone in crisis, emphasizing empathy, presence, and the lengths one will go to help a loved one through mental health struggles. What gets me every time in this song is the line, “I’ll call your mom.” The repeated phrase “I’ll call your mom” is symbolic, representing the willingness to take any action necessary to ensure the person’s safety and remind them they are not alone—even calling someone’s mom. I hope I am that person for the people in my life. Please know I want to be that person for you.
Don't let this darkness fool you
All lights turned off can be turned on
I'll drive, I'll drive all night
I'll call your mom
P.P.S. What I’m reading: I just finished Marriage at Sea, a nonfiction book about Maurice and Maralyn Bailey 1972 shipwreck and survival. This book was both fascinating and made me so uncomfortable that it made my skin crawl. The couple’s dedication to each other was both heartwarming and a little creepy. I’m just not sure how I felt about it. It’s a quick read though, and their survival story is pretty incredible.
Just starting Heart the Lover today after many, many recommendations. I’m also still listening to Buckeye, but I’m struggling to get through. Not sure if I’m in the right mindspace for it.
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