Don't Call It A Crisis
On replacing tired, old language about mid-life with new, wild words
I really had hoped that we moved past the phrase “mid-life crisis.” But I still hear this phrase and it gives me full-body aches, and not in a good way.
Like Winston Churchill, who said “in crisis is great opportunity,” I love a good crisis for the character test that it creates. But I object to mid-life being a crisis.
I understand the expectations that the world has for me, and fortunately (sometimes unfortunately), have always navigated contrary to them. I understand that a woman on the brink of 50 years old, with no job, no children, no pets, no partner, and living in a temporary situation looks like a person in crisis. I understand that this snapshot description of my life sounds empty, lonely, scary, … maybe it even resembles a crisis.
But things are not always what they seem, and we could all do with questioning our viewpoints o have an honest tally of what has been decided for us by the patriarchy versus what we’ve really immersed our minds in to develop a unique point of view.
It is a Reawakening, Not a Crisis
I feel so the opposite of a crisis. I feel like I’ve shed dead skin, emerged from a cocoon, bloomed in the Spring … all of these nature analogies apply.
All of my circumstances (except my age) were my doing, after heartbreaking, tearful contemplation with myself and the people closest to me. I made mindful decisions, not because I was being mercurial or irresponsible, but because I was doing what we all want — molding my one life into one that enables the best version of myself to unfold.
If I’m ashamed of anything, it is not that I am unmarried, unemployed, childless, or don’t own the home that I live in — it is that it took me nearly 50 years to get to the place where I could honor myself more deliberately. The re-awakening is the knowledge that I am in charge of my life. All of it. All of the roses, the buds, and the thorns. I get to decide what environment I need around me to be the highest priestess version of myself.
And by the way, we all have this power. You don’t need to be in mid-life, or on a sabbatical, or recently divorced to claim this power.
It’s Ideal but it is Not Easy
I should mention — reawakening to a new, better life is not like floating effortlessly in a rubber tube down a peaceful river with shades on and a beer in hand, marveling at a mountain view.
It’s hard. It’s time-consuming. It requires faith. It takes a specific kind of courage — brutal honesty with yourself in a world that is trying to tell you what to think and how to feel, from every conceivable direction.
If I Knew Then What I Know Now
There are many things I did in my life up to this point to make this transition easier. And there are things that I wish I did differently. A lot of people reach out to me, passionately expressing their desire to do what I’m doing — quit their job, travel, rebuild — but they can’t because of this, that, and the other. I hear you. And here’s what I say to them about achieving that ideal picture of life: If you are questioning your life, then you are already fucking doing it!
Maybe you are not in a financial position to quit your job. Or maybe you don’t really know what you would do if you quit your job. Or maybe you have kids or parents who need you. Maybe you have a health condition that dictates your life.
You will get over, through, or around each of these barriers.
I’ve always been obsessed with setting goals and creating to-do lists that get me to that goal (I can’t help it, it is an occupational hazard of being a product manager), but I am being drawn to a new type of guidance. Less action, more affirmation. Something that resembles a love letter from my intuition — a manifestation of my wild mind to bring me back to my power when I’m feeling foggy, defeated, or frazzled.
If my intuition were to write that love letter to me, here are some things it may say:
Know what you want and what you need.
Allow your wants and needs to evolve over time. Don’t get too attached to any of them.
Get comfortable with articulating your wants and needs out loud, face-to-face, with other humans.
It helps to defend your wants and needs - not to be argumentative, but to be certain for yourself.
Listen to other people. Like, really, listen. Don’t just stop talking when they are talking. Stop thinking of your own shit when they are talking.
Question authority, with curiosity. Including - every now and then - your own compass.
Cry! From faintly teary eyes to deep, heaving sobs. The physical release is an absolute necessity for your body and mind.
Hug people. Tell them how you feel about them. Give them your respect and honesty.
Get used to living in a little discomfort. Not a ton of it - the comfort:discomfort ratio is going to be personal to you. Find that ratio.
Your mobility is a sacred gift. Move your body every damn day.
When you are sad, depressed, or feeling “off,” this is the time that you need to get brutally honest with yourself. Know that your courage will be tested the hardest in these moments.
Your power emerges when you get out of the rut
I had a friend point out to me this week, when I expressed frustration about all of my creative ideas stomping on top of each other that none of them are being expressed, that my brain has been working in one way for so long that it is behaving a bit wildly right now as it finds its new course of freedom.
While I cringe at the phrase “mid-life crisis,” I could get behind “mid-life rut” because it more accurately describes what is happening. Churchill said the opportunity lives inside the crisis. I'd take a different angle: the opportunity lives inside the rut. The crisis is just what it looks like from the outside.



You said something-that childless/petless/jobless etc at this age can sound like a crisis. Just want to remind you that—to many of us out here in obligations that chafe or suck, you are in a dream palace. The last time I was that way, I was too young to understand that it could be a time to really get to know myself. Instead I was trying desperately to lock all those things down bc we’re told they mean success and didn’t know that some of it could wait. I agree with you, the fact that I recognize the chafing means something has already broken loose where I am. But none of us are in a crisis, it’s just constantly refining what it means to have a life we’re proud of.
I find your writing authentic, brave and inspiring. Thank you