Midlife crisis?

So now fully into my 48th year on this planet I can look back on 2017 and reflect on the experiences I’ve had since I’ve turned 47.  Actually I don’t know that crisis is the right word for it.  I picture the midlife crisis as the middle aged man buying a sports car or getting a hot younger girlfriend.  What does a midlife crisis look like if you are a woman?  Can you even have one?  I’m not sure what that would even look like to be honest.

How did I get to this point?  Well, I think my cup was empty.  I was raised by a single mother, my father left when I was six months old, and my role model was a mom who could change tires and chop wood as well as cook delicious meals.  As a result I have learned to be a strong, independent woman who shovels snow, can cut the grass or take out the garbage.  Not that any woman shouldn’t be able to do these things but I never fell into these gender roles, it just wasn’t how I was raised.  Unfortunately my mom was also a pleaser.  She would give up her own wants or needs to please others, especially the men in her life.  As a result I have become the one who cares for and takes care of others, often at the expense of myself and my own health and well-being.

Earlier this year I think I had hit the point where the little meter on the tank between my eyes was WAY below empty.  I had given to everyone for so long, my husband, my child, my mother, my mother-in-law, my friends, my staff… there was nothing left to give.  I felt empty and tired.  I no longer had “me” time or any hobbies or even interests for myself, it had all become about everyone else.  Then simultaneously a couple of things happened.  I made some new friends.  People who had similar interests to me, something that was just for me and I began to volunteer with an organization of like-minded people who made me happy to be around.  Despite being very busy already and probably not needing to add anything else to my plate, this made me HAPPY!  Also, my staff (former and current) threw me a surprise party which was designed to let me know how much they appreciated me, complete with personal messages from each one of them about how much I mean to them or the impact that I have had on their life.  The party was emotionally overwhelming, complete with all the feels and it took me a while to take it all in.  There were gifts from each one of them, special items that they knew I would love and cherish, small special gestures.  I was on a high for days after, still glowing from the praise and love and I could feel my tank filling up.

Not long after this I was having a conversation with a new friend who has been an instrumental part of me learning about myself this year.  I have always viewed myself as not having a significant career, of not doing anything big and meaningful in my life, always measuring myself up against other people I know, thinking that the job or career path I’ve chosen is somehow less important than those of the people around me.  I’m not a doctor or a lawyer.  I hadn’t done any amazing charity work or invented anything or changed the world.  But all of a sudden I realized I HAD changed the world, one person at a time.  Using the tools from the Psychology degree that I possess I have been carefully selecting what I call my “wounded birds”, people who are often overlooked by others because of learning disabilities, or physical difficulties or lack of education in certain areas.  I had been working with these people as well as many others to overcome some of their challenges.  I had cared for, encouraged them and given them my time, patience and acceptance and helped them to become better people.  And they were grateful for it!

From this point on I started to see things differently.  I felt valued and had a renewed energy to carry on and try to keep helping others.  However I have to remember to take care of myself.  As the end of 2017 is approaching I am doing more and more for myself.  I have not stopped giving to or helping others, that’s just who I am, I don’t think that will change.  I have however done some things for ME, things that help me see myself how I think others see me.  Hopefully going forward I will remember to stop and do things for myself, things I enjoy, that make me feel good.  To fill up my own tank so I can continue to give and help those little birds…

So why am I doing this?

Growing up I always thought I wanted to be a writer. I even wrote a short story in grade school called “The Sandpit Mystery”. I liked to read. I especially liked choose-your-own-endings books. As a young adult I started a work of fiction based on the King Arthur, knights of the round table theme that fascinated me. That was left unfinished. The older I get I find the less I read and I drift more and more away from the writing that I loved to do.

I have an obsession with stationary. I love new pens, fancy paper, notebooks. I love the smell and the feel of them. During back to school season I wander the aisles of any store selling school supplies with a goofy smile on my face, picking up items that I really don’t need because they make me happy.

I journalled for a time in my life, capturing moments in my life which I felt were significant, new boyfriends, special events with friends, difficult situations and times that I was going through. Fortunately for me I had done this and during my first marriage, which ended in divorce, as I needed all of this documentation during a lengthy annulment process.  I probably should have continued journalling however I was always afraid someone (like my teenage son) might find and read my writings and I felt they were far too personal and at times TMI for my son to need to read.

As I’m about to turn 48 in just over a month I find myself at a divergence in my life.  Not sure if it’s perspective given to me by age or something to do with astrology and the alignment of planets but it has certainly been a year of change and self-discovery.  SO much has happened during this year and I feel the need to reflect on it, to look deeper at it and above all to start writing again.  I have always been a believer that people come into your life for a reason, whether it be the impact you have on them, or that they have on you, or both.  In the past year so many new people have come into my life.  Through interacting with all of these people I have gained much more insight into who I am, what I need and who I want to be. Many of these people and events have touched my spiritually and emotionally and have taught me what I think are important life lessons.

With regards to returning to writing, a couple of notable people have awoken in me the desire to, for lack of a better phrase, put pen to paper (in today’s world however it has become fingers to keyboard). I would be remiss not to acknowledge these two women who have inspired me to at least on the very basic level pour out my thoughts and feelings again.  They have both become friends and are certainly women I admire and look up to.  One is video game writer Ann Lemay who I met recently at a comic convention and the other is author H.Leighton Dickson for whom I only recently began working for as her personal assistant for a volunteer organization.  However the real inspiration behind starting this journey into writing was another friend who recently reminded me “There’s a difference between your dream and the passion that creates that dream. And if the dream doesn’t work out, you don’t have to throw both away”. And so even though I may never write a book and have it published I’m not going to throw away the passion of my dream and I’m hoping through this outlet I can stir up some of that passion again.