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Let me say it again: your 40s are downright bizarre. They bring freedom and fear, excitement and isolation, clarity and confusion, all at once. And that’s just the emotional part. The physical transformations? Absolutely wild. (Thanks a lot, perimenopause.)
I was aware that my body would undergo changes as I entered “middle age.” I had watched my mother, aunts, and their friends navigate it. I had read about it, and believe me, I had heard plenty. But I was unprepared for the reality of it all.
Recently, I caught a glimpse of my knees and was genuinely taken aback by their papery appearance. My skin looked like a crumpled, chewed-up piece of old homework that had been stuffed in the bottom of my tween’s backpack. When did this happen?
Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. It’s both fascinating and a tad horrifying, to be honest. Then I chat with others about the strange journey of our 40s and realize with a mix of shock and awe: I’ve become a middle-aged cliché.
I find myself battling both wrinkles and acne simultaneously. As if that wasn’t enough, advertisers are constantly reminding us that we should be doing something about our wrinkles, that our hair is flat, and pushing Botox like it’s a necessity. Can’t we catch a break?
I wake up at 2 a.m. drenched in sweat, my mind racing: Did I remember to turn off the oven? Why did I say that ridiculous thing years ago? Are my kids spending too much time on their phones? And why can’t I shake “Driver’s License” by Olivia Rodrigo from my mind? OMG, my teen is about to start driving. That means a second car, higher insurance, and maybe even a stronger prescription for anxiety.
Sometimes, the midnight panic feels so intense that I struggle to breathe. Middle age brings night sweats and anxiety, leading to daytime fatigue. I often look worn out—because I am. Just like every other middle-aged mom throughout history.
Not only do I look tired, but I also seem perpetually annoyed. My RBF (resting b*tch face) has taken on a life of its own, and I’m too weary to change it. People will ask, “Why do you look angry?” and I’ll think, I wasn’t angry until now. Great. In a recent Zoom call marathon, I realized how much energy I wasted trying to appear not annoyed. Enough is enough! I’m done trying to mold my expression to fit societal expectations.
Middle age means we’ve reached a point where we’ve had enough of the nonsense. So much of it just doesn’t matter. I often find myself saying, “Who cares?” Who cares if I have my dream job? Who cares if my waistline has expanded or if I choose to get another tattoo? Who cares if I dye my hair bright pink or wear cowboy boots, a miniskirt, or sweatpants? Who cares? Who cares if I have wrinkles or what I post on social media? Who cares about the dishes or laundry? Who cares? Is “who cares” the new mantra for middle age?
Yet, I do care. About so many things. I care about fighting against sexism and racism, supporting women in aging authentically, and raising compassionate children. I care about a lot. And there’s so much nonsense everywhere. I have higher expectations and less tolerance for rubbish, which makes me more disappointed in people, including myself when I don’t meet my own standards. I find myself feeling angry often. Is it hormones? The struggles of being human? Who knows?
Whatever the cause, that anger is always simmering just below the surface. Sometimes I feel so furious that I think I might explode or curl up and cry for hours. Sometimes both within minutes.
However, alongside that anger is immense joy and gratitude that I can hardly contain. Life is short and precious. OMG, I’m halfway through it. Cue the anxiety about not living it right. Am I wasting my time on trivial things? Am I seizing the day? Cue the midnight panic attacks.
Middle age is filled with contradictions and confusion. But it’s also freeing, enjoyable, and empowering. I feel like a middle-aged stereotype, yet I’m still amazed that this is my reality. No, not just me. This is happening. It is who I am now.
And if these clichés hold true, chances are, you relate too.
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Summary:
In your 40s, life feels like a mix of liberation and confusion, with physical changes often catching you off guard. As you juggle the realities of aging, societal pressures, and personal expectations, you can find humor in the cliché of middle age. While navigating this strange phase, it’s essential to focus on what truly matters, balancing the anger and joy that coexists in this life stage.