What does a 21st Century midlife crisis look like?
Does it exist? Is it a male phenomenon? Has it changed over the decades?
Is it just about blowing a load of cash on a Porsche?
Or is there something deeper?
About 5.30pm on a Tuesday, a while back, whilst standing half way down my garden (the only child-free zone I could find), I ended up chatting on the phone to the amazing journalist Zoe Williams about the modern midlife crisis.
An old-fashioned midlife crisis used to involve the purchase of a fast car. Nowadays it’s more about career crises.
It might have been a normal day for Zoe, but not for me.
When she opened the conversation with “Hi, it's Zoe Williams from the Guardian”, I smiled one of those smiles that starts in your toes and ebbs towards your earlobes at the speed of light. “Hi, Zoe Williams from the Guardian!” I squeaked in reply.
Apparently, I squeak when I meet someone I’ve admired for a few decades - who knew?
When I first came to UK, I remember reading her articles in the weekend sections of the broadsheets - often hungover, after an expensive night drinking cheap wine in London. We were similar ages and she spoke to my generation as if she was inside my head.
So, 20 years on, she was still a journalist, and a great write…and she was calling me!
To be fair, it was a bit of a mad time. I was two weeks away from publishing my first book, X Change: How to torch your work treadmill, when I saw a request from her on Twitter looking to talk to someone who:
identified as female (yes)
knew something about the midlife crisis (yup)
and ideally had experienced one of her own (Hell yes! I created a business because of it!)
My hand shot up faster than a five-year-old trying to impress Miss Honey.
In our half-hour chat, Zoe probed my mind like the experienced journalist she was. In return, I tried so hard to impress her that, by the time I got off the phone, I had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHAT I’D SAID.
A nail-biting few weeks followed.
Imagine my stomach churn when, my whatsapp friends got in touch to say they’d been reading about my midlife crisis in the Guardian!
Holy hell! What had I done? What had I said?
They forwarded me the article and my blood pressure returned to normal as I read Zoe’s brilliantly-researched, cleverly crafted article several times to allow it to sink in.
Sure, I had been probably a little too open about my own melt down around 43. But, I’m always honest about that and talk about it regularly on video, in talks, in this blog, and in my book.
Zoe had very kindly mentioned my new book, so people started getting in touch that day. So many new people checked out my website and signed up to my “It’s not too late and you’re not too old” newsletter that I almost wept with joy.
Please do read Zoe’s article in The Guardian.
But, if you’re stuck for time and just wanted to know what I said, here it is:
Sometime in our 40s or 50s we have to start working a heck of a lot harder at liking our bodies than we used to. Probably due to the impacts of metabolic slow-down, illnesses, or sheer bloody exhaustion! Some people view this as their midlife crisis, but it’s much bigger than that
Midlife crises of the Porsche-buying variety, are old hat for most of our modern society. Middle Aged Men In Lycra (or MAMILs) is the modern form. But, let’s be honest, some men just love cycling fast, wearing (far too) tight clothes, talking about power-to-weight ratios. My lovely husband is one of them, so I need to tread gently here!
In my opinion, the new midlife crisis manifests itself as a career crisis in our 40s/50s, which has become comfortable to talk about in recent years. The timing of this seems to also coincide with the modern 50-year-old corporate toast phenomenon which I’ve written about a great deal.
Middle Aged Men In Lycra don’t signal midlife crisis any more than buying a Porsche. Some men (my husband for instance) just like wearing tight-fitting clothes, while cycling, discussing power-to-weight ratios. Other men (my younger brother for instance) just like Porsches ;)
Here’s the article again - have a read and let me know if you agree or disagree.
If you couldn’t give a monkeys what we name this feeling of dissatisfaction that you’re experiencing and want to crack on designing your way out of it, why not book in for one of my “Light at the end of my tunnel” calls? In 30 minutes, after hearing your story, I guarantee to give you at least two personalised suggestions to kick-start your career overhaul. This way, you can stop wasting time doing work that you don’t love.
