The Transformational Midlife Shift

In almost three decades of counselling people, I’ve noticed something. Life has patterns. Predictable ones.

Some are obvious. We leave home. We fall in love. We get the job. We get married. A baby comes and rearranges everything.

The kids grow up, get loud, then quiet, then gone.

Our parents get older, then get sick, then we become caregivers. And then one day they’re gone.

Different families, different countries, different details. Same path.

This is common humanity. It’s the understanding that we all experience similar things in life, no matter our race, socioeconomic status, or background.

We feel joy, experience suffering, and most days, live somewhere in between.

But there’s one pattern we rarely name.

Somewhere in the middle of life, we start reflecting.

We don’t plan it. It just starts. And that reflection almost always leads to the same places.

Nostalgia about the good old days. Regret about the past. The realization that we have less time left than we’ve already used. And a restless, uncomfortable pull to change something.

Some call it a midlife crisis. I call it a midlife awakening.

Because that’s what it really is. A wake up call. There is limited time left, so how are we feeling about the way we’re living our lives?

Not many are content at this point. This is when many people seek my counsel.

It is the season people change jobs or careers. Leave marriages. Start travelling. Pick up a hobby they’re not the least bit good at. Sit in the car in the driveway a little longer, wondering what all of it has been for, and whether they’ve lived their best life.

And that dissatisfaction is not a bad thing. It stirs a part of us that’s been coasting and needed waking up.

For some it means finally taking care of their health, right after burying a parent. For some it’s picking up something new once the kids move out. For some it’s turning to the person they married and saying out loud, I don’t want to keep living like this.

So some leave. And start anew.

Others do something radical. (The minority stay the same.)

They kickstart their marriages because they are sick and tired of being sick and tired.

And the ones who awaken their relationships, their lives are better for it. Every time.

Here’s how I’ve come to see it. The first half of your life, you’re building the container of your life. The second half, you get to fill it with who you really are. Who you were always meant to be.

Limited time tends to do that to a person.

So if you’re in that season, three things.

1. Treat your regret as a map, not a verdict.

Regret feels like an accusation. It’s really just information. Write down the one that keeps circling back, then ask what it tells you that you value. “I regret not travelling” usually means “I value adventure.” Now you know what your next twenty years need more of.

2. Count something.

Not years. Something you can picture. If your mom is 78, you may have 10 more Christmases with her. If your daughter is 15, maybe 3 more summers before she’s gone. Most of us stay vague on purpose, because vague doesn’t ask anything of us. A number does.

3. Don’t just change the scenery.

Most people feeling this ache change the outside first. New job, new house, new city, sometimes a new person. Sometimes that’s exactly right. But usually the ache isn’t about the scenery at all. It’s about the relationship you have with yourself and your partner. Those don’t change because your address did.

From here, you really only have three choices.

One, you can end the relationship.

Two, you can do nothing and stay in the misery for the rest of your days together. And make no mistake, doing nothing is still a choice.

Or three, turn it upside down and inside out.

Don’t spend your second half living in regret. Now is the time. Learn from the people who have walked this same path ahead of you, and be one of the ones who comes out the other side victorious.

P.S. Live your best life now because there’s no second chance at it.