Finding Freedom in Being Lost

I've been scouring the Internet today, searching terms like "midlife crisis in women," and "women's midlife crisis 2023," I'm guessing my search engine is like "WTF?" because this isn't even remotely close to anything else I've ever consulted Dr. Google, Psy.D. with. But, this morning I was listening to a podcast (We Can Do Hard Things) that got me thinking....A woman my age (45) was asking about the sudden dread of feeling lost, of being needed less by her children, of not finding satisfaction in her current career, of asking herself who she really is and what she really wants. The hosts giggled somewhat knowingly, and lovingly welcomed the caller into her beautiful and honorable "midlife crisis." They positioned this arrival as something special to behold. A place brimming with opportunity and potential. A place where you get to ask not just "who am I?" but "who am I, really?" I decided that maybe the feelings I've been toiling with are just the gentle arrival of my own midlife crisis. So, just like any other time that I need validation, I took to the web where I lost more of my precious time than I intended before I stopped myself from trying to find myself in someone else's story.

Toward the end of the podcast, the brilliant Cheryl Strayed said this: "When we do feel lost, then our main task is to go about the business of finding our way."

Is this lost feeling a midlife crisis? Maybe. But maybe not. Maybe it's just a re-birth of finding my way. Finding our way. At the end of the day, I guess categorizing it doesn't totally matter because it doesn't change how I'm feeling about my current place in this one precious life I've been given. To label it, is to not trust it. Labeling it means wanting to generalize it, normalize it. To slap a word across it means that the discomfort of sitting in it begs for the company of others to be in it with me. Misery loves company, right? Except I'm not miserable. I'm just.....lost. And to turn this experience into a group project might mean that I miss what's intended just for me. I might miss the lesson. I might not keep my eyes open wide enough to find my way.

Last month I left a job that I loved. The position itself was so fulfilling, seeping into every nook and cranny of my heart. It gave me purpose. It gave me an identity. Not a full one, of course, but at least one from which I could lead a conversation. Unfortunately, the system I was working within was broken, and in the process of trying to fix it, of speaking up, of initiating the tough conversations, my joy was dwindling by the day and I was taking my defeat home with me. The lights were going out. My spirit was growing dim. And so, I did the hard thing....I quit. It wasn't a decision that I made lightly, and certainly didn't come to fruition overnight. It took 4 months of emotionally grueling consideration. I wasn't just walking away from something I felt passionate about, but I was stepping into the unknown with no plan for what comes next.

At my age, this feels terrifying - and at moments, even reckless. I've sat at my kitchen table half a dozen times attempting to update my resume. And half a dozen times, I have closed my laptop in defeat. There are new rules about how resumes are formatted - from length, to summary, to bullet points highlighting transferable skills rather than specific work experience, etc. The rules have changed. Sure, I can follow a template, but when I get to that place where I need to account for what happened between 2009 and 2019, I stare blankly at my screen. How do I communicate the years I poured into raising my two daughters? How do I prove that the corporate skills and experience which I had acquired over the 20 years leading up to the birth of my first born were relevant and "transferable?" How do I explain the shift from corporate America to special education Paraeducator? How do I showcase the journey of shifting priorities and an evolving perspective? How do I draw myself into one concise picture, perfect for a job that I don't even know I completely want? Because right now, I don't know what I want, actually. Aside from the life my husband and I are creating with our two daughters, I don't know what I want because maybe I don't know who I am, really.

There is a peace in knowing that I have done motherhood well. I have absolutely made mistakes along the way, but I have a deep sense of knowing that I have been a good mom - which is likely because I have loved and cherished it. I have known my place in motherhood, and didn't struggle to surrender my own ego in an effort to nurture my children's budding identities as entities of their own. I went all in, but now they need me less. And them needing me less is exactly how it's supposed to go. But when you combine being needed less by the ones whom you've revolved your world around, with a job you loved and left, and a dash of a blank resume with an unknown objective....you can feel slightly lost. In the wildnerness. Without a fucking compass.

So, how does one find freedom in that? Well, I have to believe that the blank slate is a gift. I have to believe that this time, which happens to land in my mid-life, is a time of refinement. A refinement of my passions. Time to take inventory of the things that bring me joy now. Time to dream again like we did in our 20's, but this time with wisdom and more lived experience behind us. A sense of maturity and groundedness insulating us from our past mistakes. As author BJ Neblett says, "“We are the sum total of our experiences. Those experiences – be they positive or negative – make us the person we are, at any given point in our lives. And, like a flowing river, those same experiences, and those yet to come, continue to influence and reshape the person we are, and the person we become. None of us are the same as we were yesterday, nor will be tomorrow.” To me, this means that today, I am the most whole I have ever been. I have been influenced and reshaped. I've become a more current version of myself. There's freedom in that.

It's not lost on me that I have great privilege in walking through this time of mid-life unemployment without panic. I have a luxury others might not, in that I have some time and space to ponder what comes next. I recognize this as another invaluable gift. And because it is so precious, I don't want to squander it away. I want this pause to be purposeful, and for one of the first times in my life, I don't want to be pressured by fear or expectations or judgments. I want to find myself again, as a 45 year old woman who is capable of great things - but who first desires those great things to be meaningful and fulfilling.

So, ladies, what if this is a mid-life crisis? I'm OK with that because I learned that the word crisis is derived from an Ancient Greek word, krisis, which means to distinguish/choose/decide. If we look at being lost and "in crisis" as an opportunity to distinguish what is most precious to us, then we can choose what to pursue and ultimately decide how/where to assign value to the next chapters in our lives. We haven't lost an ounce of our worthiness. We haven't become insignificant. We've just....become. A new version of ourselves. A beautiful version of ourselves who no longer tolerate what the world has told us to be. Freedom.

I wanted to write this both for myself, and for any other 40-something year old woman also feeling lost in the wilderness. I'm convinced that we're in a sacred place. Together (even though we didn't need the label or the company). We're here to find what's meant for us.

"Belonging so fully to yourself that you’re willing to stand alone is a wilderness—an untamed, unpredictable place of solitude and searching. It is a place as dangerous as it is breathtaking, a place as sought after as it is feared. The wilderness can often feel unholy because we can’t control it, or what people think about our choice of whether to venture into that vastness or not. But it turns out to be the place of true belonging, and it’s the bravest and most sacred place you will ever stand." - Brene Brown

(And hey, feel free to share this post on LinkedIn if you think it'll help land me the perfect job that I haven't been able to yet define).