The phrase middle-aged has always summoned a feeling of dread and mediocrity—like a horrible period of general malaise, grey skies and cubicle dwelling drudgery. I’m not sure why this phase of life has gotten such a bad rap. I feel like it may be making a comeback with all of the “40 is the new 20” initiatives. Most likely this is because those of us that were dreading it at twenty are now in our forties and have realized that a strong marketing campaign can change our minds.
The truth of the matter is that most people I know that are in their forties are the happiest, most comfortable they’ve ever been with themselves. They’ve figured out what’s really important to them, they’ve stopped caring so much what other people think, they’ve realized that there are very few things that are truly a crisis—it’s a liberating time. So, I submit that it’s not our age at middle age that can be so daunting, but rather what is happening around us. It’s being in the middle that’s so hard.
This phase of life, for most of us, has us established in career and a family. We’ve spent a good deal of our adult life building these things and now a lot of them are “in place” we’re no longer in the acquisition phase—that’s a strange departure from the first phase of adulthood where were trying to attain the job/house/family/expertise we so greatly desired. Most of us have something now that we’ve worked for and our proud of; something that we are terrified of losing.
Thus, begins the gripping phase or maintenance. Instead of taking a chance on a new career, we stay with what we know because we’ve built this life that requires us to support it. Rather than admit we’d like to change the dynamic of our life we hold on, white knuckling it because if we lose any piece of this puzzle we worked so hard to put together, what will we do? What will happen then? But, the irony is if we hadn’t taken chances and tried things we more than likely would have never ended up with the life we’re so hell-bent on maintaining.
Also, the newness of everything has worn off. It was exciting and challenging to figure out a career path, there were lots of things that constantly got us excited. Now, we are most likely more established and the success we achieved may have left us without as many things to look forward to in the future. We may feel like there’s not a lot of mountain left to climb or if there is something we’d like to pursue it’s now so far out of our comfort zone, it terrifies us.
Then there’s the familial aspect. For those of us that are married, the beginning of marriage is exciting and fun, filled with unchartered territory. You buy your first house, you go on your first real vacation, you host holidays—you are legitimized in your adulthood and it feels fantastic. Now, in the middle, those same things bring to you a feeling of dread and responsibility. You love your house, but the maintenance is a constant source of frustration, you want to travel to exotic lands, but your kids have a soccer tournament every weekend and you love the holidays but they now require a pre-game cocktail and a fun game where you and your spouse see how quickly you can shove turkey down everyone’s throat and get them to leave. Why? Is it because we’ve now just done these things so many times we can no longer appreciate them? Where is the joy and excitement we once felt?
The most daunting part of this phase of life to me is your place—in the middle. You have children that are probably not adorable little babies, but are now growing into young adults—you can see this happening—it’s like a perverse magic show the Universe is putting on. The worst part is you are equally scared that they will grow up and leave you or that they will grow up and never leave you—I’m not sure which is worse (ok, that’s not entirely true the never leaving is way worse, but the leaving still makes me sad).
Also, the decisions we make with these not fully formed humans seem more important because you can see them as almost a full functioning human, you know that your words/actions/inaction have a profound impact on them—no pressure. So, again the newness, preciousness and sleepless nights of an infant have been traded for the eye rolling, internet monitoring, sleepless nights of a teenager. They have ideas and opinions and can utilize technology more efficiently than you, you can see how at some point they will, in fact, be much smarter than you and you will become your parents who still can’t operate a universal remote control.
And, that brings me to your parents. I think this one is the absolute hardest part about the middle. No matter what kind of relationship you have with your parents, you only have two, so their place in your life is unchallenged. At this phase in life most of our parents have aged in a way that we clearly notice. They forget things, they have no idea how to send a text, they start reminding you of your own grandparents. Their friends are plagued with various ailments, which you get to hear about on the regular—“poor Mrs. Adams just had to have her gallbladder removed.” Some of their lifelong friends are dying and you can see how that affects them. You feel their pain as they lose a piece of their past while simultaneously staring at their own mortality. Some of them may be sick themselves and require care–that lands on your shoulders. Too many of them have already been ill and passed away and we’ve had to witness the first important people who have always been a constant in our life drift out of it.
This middle is aptly titled. You are (hopefully) in the middle of your life, (if you have them) you’re in the middle of raising children and you’re in the middle of watching your parents age. There is something profoundly constrictive about the whole thing. We feel responsible to so many different people and, at the same time, we have half of a life to plan! I sometimes picture this part of life as the stretchy Gumby-like toys my kids get in the birthday party goodie bags I loathe—they stretch and stretch that sucker and it usually doesn’t break, but every once in a while, that thing snaps like a twig and flicks them right in the face.
I want everyone to stop pulling. I’ve been stretched and stretched and I’d like just a week or two off of the stretching. But, let’s be honest, it ain’t happening. Life will always march on whether we’re ready to be pulled on or not. Our careers will take a million turns, some unexpected and others perfectly plotted. Our children will grow into adults and we will all do our very best to make sure that they enter into that phase as intelligent, loving, kind human beings. Our parents will age and will leave us and we will hate everything about that. So, we should enjoy them while they’re with us and help them change the channels and pray that those kind-hearted kids we raised do the same for us.