Forget The ‘Mid-Life Crisis’ — I’m in My Prime

A love letter to myself, and to those anxiously aging.

I sit here typing this as my legs still feel the burn of my wife’s Pilates class this morning. However, the fact that I willingly went to a Pilates class on a Monday morning sets the stage for the rest of this piece.

Don’t worry — this is not going to be one of those “you got this!” articles with hearts and rainbows. Those who know me would probably say I sway between surly and mildly amused. This is a realistic look at what it means to be middle-aged, the good — and some of the not so good.

It’s also to acknowledge that despite not being a medical condition, the mid-life crisis is real. But it’s not exactly what many would think, with the Porsches and the like. For me, it’s a wave goodbye to the younger versions of me. It’s remembering and enjoying a mosaic of moments that I will never forget.

I sometimes forget I’m in my mid-40’s, which I take as a good thing — it means my brain hasn’t quite accepted it yet, despite the aches and pains. But it means I still have an open mind, for things retro as well as what’s new.

My nostalgia for the 1990’s — when I was in my “first prime” — does not cloud my acceptance of new art, musicians, technology, and social concepts. I try to learn as much as I can, and not default to my biases, which both in a way helps keep my brain younger.

When we’re in our 20’s — during which many people reflect back to when they reach their 40’s and 50’s — we didn’t have much figured out. (Okay, maybe I’m just speaking for myself.) Sure, I looked pretty good. I could walk across the entire city and back without breaking a sweat. I still had some hair that I could still style and even colour (it has become a five-minute buzz cut since my late 30's.)

But here’s the thing. Most of what I remember I liked from that time was superficial. How I looked, how my peers looked, how I was young and virile. But there’s not really a lot of depth to that. My biggest concern was how others perceived me. I did not yet know how to accept my flaws, and even use them to my advantage.

In short, I wasn’t me yet.

We all go through different versions of ourselves. Who you were 10 years ago is likely different, if not drastically different, from whom you are now. Maybe you look back at that younger person and shake your head a bit (or maybe you give them a high five for that thing they did that time.)

But that’s the thing. When you’re deep into your youth, you don’t really take time to reflect on the bigger picture. It’s all about image, appeasing others, and trying to land a career by impressing people with your skills. (Okay, I’m speaking for myself here.)

When you get a bit older, you start seeing those earlier versions of yourself. You can look at them like you’d look at another person, because you’re not them anymore. And you might be inclined to ask them some questions: How did I have so much energy? How did I go to all those work conventions? How did I fit in college and work without a weekend off for about three years?

I endured some hours back then that make me tired just thinking about them now (especially working 12-hour retail shifts during the holidays.) While I don’t have that same “zest” now, I’m still in pretty good shape. I can still walk across the city if I wanted (possibly followed by a nap).

But what’s really improved is my creativity, and my emotional intelligence. These are two qualities that are forged by experience. The past 40 years have taught me how I automatically react to certain situations. When you’re a bit older, you stop fearing your own reactions, and instead anticipate them. You know you will get through bad situations and live to tell the tale. Because here you are.

Sure, you may be carrying trauma. To be honest, I think most people do carry some trauma in one form or another, some more than others. But middle-agedness has helped me recognize that certain memories are not as heavy as I once believed. I can also handle more than my nerves tell me sometimes.

You know how you learn all the quirks about a partner when you’ve been with them for a long while? The same thing happens to your relationship with yourself. You start to accept “you” as a unique person that doesn’t conform in every way. The cooler thing is that you also realize you don’t need to conform.

I gained the confidence to leave a decent job with benefits, so I could chase after new opportunities. My younger, insecure self would never take a leap of faith like that. It was scary, but I luckily landed on pillows when I missed the ledge.

The same professional self-assuredness has helped me as a freelancer for the past eight years or so. I tried freelancing in my 20’s, and it was all about the next job and settling invoices as soon as possible. I now take my time, picking and choosing the work I want, and enjoying the space in between.

I have finally realized that yes — I do have value both as a person and as a professional. I have been subconsciously soaking in my successes and failures, and my brain has started to arrange the puzzle. It’s amazing how much smarter and more capable you are than your outdated ways of thinking allow. Your brain is figuring it all out behind the scenes.

Listen, I promised not all hearts and rainbows. Aging is a challenge in many ways. First of all, I’m a dad — which would have been a foreign concept to my 25-year-old self. I was still trying to raise myself, let alone raise a young child.

I’m not saying that parenting came naturally to me, but in my middle age I have learned more patience. I can see my son becoming his own person, which makes me proud.

I have unfortunately had some physical/mental issues grow with me over the years, but I also have gained the tools to better understand them. I don’t try to push myself harder than I need to anymore. I know when to put my foot on the gas, and when to coast to the next destination (which I’m more comfortable doing now.)

I honestly feel that I’m gaining more freedom to be myself in my 40’s. Gone are some of the expectations placed on me when I was younger. Gone are the high standards of how to look, how to act, how important it was for “cool” people to like you. I have lost some good friends along the way, and I miss some of them, but I no longer take it personally.

At the same time, I warmly welcome my newfound bursts of creativity. I welcome projects that I wouldn’t have been brave enough to take on before. I’m less angry with myself if I’m not feeling or doing my best, and I don’t apologize for it anymore.

I’m not going to say that vanity is completely off my radar. However, while even recently I have cringed at my own reflection in the mirror, I am finally learning to incorporate it into what I am. I earned the way I look, even if it’s not magazine-worthy. And I can grow a way better beard than now than the pathetic excuse for facial hair when I was 20.

If you’re suffering a mid-life crisis, I feel for you. The symptoms are not very pleasant. However, my advice is to try to change the way you’re thinking about it. You might be sad that you’ve missed some opportunities forever — but that’s a lie you’ve told yourself. If you’re worried about aging taking something away from you, then stop.

It’s not too late to master a new creative endeavour — in fact, your collective experiences will probably help you get there faster. It’s not too late to land your dream job, if you still really want it.

You can even go (back) to university if you want, even just to admire the architecture. You can travel the world with a wiser perspective that will help you appreciate how others live.

You can still hit the gym. Hell, you can get totally ripped in your 50’s if that’s something on your list. You can go for long nature walks. You can take a Pilates class, and feel the wonderful untangling of your stress. You can tune up your bicycle and cruise through the city in summer, observing everything around you.

Middle age is not a crisis — it’s more of an awakening. Look in the mirror and greet yourself. Marvel at the knowledge you’ve gathered. Congratulate yourself for making it this far with all of your physical and emotional scars.

Remember that it’s okay to be annoyingly nostalgic, and still have a grasp on the present and future. But also remember to have some fun and stay light-hearted, because that’s not reserved for the young.