I know a lot of women in their early 40s.
OK, let's get more specific: I know a lot of well-educated, relatively economically stable white women in their early 40s, many--but not all--heterosexual, many--but not all--mothers. In other words, my friends look a lot like me.
And let me preface what I am about to say by acknowledging that you could easily label this post Privileged Narcissistic Whining, but that accusation is, well, not particularly interesting, so if you feel the urge to accuse, your time would be better spent reading a different blog.
Anyway, about my friends. What's striking to me, or rather, perhaps, what is disturbing to me, is how many of my friends, present company included, are in various states of upheaval, ranging from uncertainty, to transition, to full-blown crisis.
Some have been home with small children who are now bigger and are trying to figure out what comes next. Some are questioning the careers they chose--or fell into--and trying to figure out what comes next. Some have had their worlds rocked by forces beyond their control, and are trying to figure out what comes next. My conversations and emails are filled with questions about what comes next, when they are not filled with anxiety, frustration, and, sometimes, plain old despair.
What's up with this? My friends are smart, talented, interesting, funny, and loving. They have great partners and fabulous kids (even the world's most demonic toddler). They have accomplished much, professionally and personally.
So why are we in such a collective mess?
I'm not quite sure.
Maybe it's developmental and I just never knew so many women in their early 40s.
Maybe it's a collective Mid Life Crisis--only I thought that involved red convertibles and bimbos, and this is nowhere near as much fun (interestingly--and fortunately--few of my friends are manifesting their uncertainty on the marital front, though the ones that are are doing it in spades) (whatever that means).
Maybe it's historical: we are the youngest sisters of second wave feminism: we really thought our choices mattered, but our adulthoods began under Reagan and have been spent in a supposedly post-feminist world.
Maybe it's narcotic and we're not taking the right drugs (you can choose to interpret that pharmaceutically or recreationally).
Maybe I just picked the wrong friends. (But I don't think so.)
I suppose I could go read some Gail Sheehy, or ask my friends in their 50s and 60s and 70s, or interview a bunch of psychologists and historians and cultural critics and write a book. But I don't want to. I just want everyone to feel better.
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9 comments:
Not to be sexist, but I think the men do red convertibles and bimbos while the women do collective angst-ing. Sometimes I wonder if we wouldn't be happier if we could just find the right very expensive thing to buy--because the new shoes are no longer cutting it in the same way that they might have ten years ago.
We also tend not to go bomb a country when we feel our identity threatened, but I won't go there. Because maybe we would, if we were in a position to.
(Mostly kidding about all of these, but I recognize the syndrome. Sigh.)
And I'm noticing the same thing in my circle of friends in our late 30's, though perhaps we can all be lumped together.
I loved this piece of writing, by the way.
I don't quite see the connection between saying that your friends are in a stage of questioning and transition and saying that they're "a mess."
Having choices -- whether to work or not, whether to switch careers -- is scary. And we're often frustrated with the tradeoffs involved. But I'd still take having choices over not...
I'm in my late 20s, but I'm feeling overwhelmed by all the upheaval in my life these days. Nice to hear I'm not the only one.
My vote is that we grew up thinking we could do anything and everything, all at the same time even, and that our lives would be fascinating and stimulating in ways that the women's lives around us (growing up) never seemed to be. Now we are realizing that the choosing is not endless, when we somehow manage to choose one path we close off others (choosing the path of motherhood is the big one that comes to mind!). So we can constantly wonder about all those other amazing choices we (believe that we) could have made and we can't fully embrace the present reality. Great book that comes to mind: "The Paradox of Choice" by Barry Schwartz.
That feels like how it works in MY late 30's mommy mind at least. And the more awareness, the less acting out... I just keep doing my yoga and hope to keep the longing for more/different under control.
AML (sorry, it came up anonymous b/c I was too lazy to sign in)
I like Elizabeth's comment--and, for what it's worth, at 45 (and most of my friends are my age or a bit older) I think that though we may still be in a questioning/transition stage--maybe forever?--we are less of a mess. Maybe we've just gotten used to the notion that we will always have questions. That all those choices: career, parenting, etc., once made, still generate other choices. Though to be fair the marriages that crashed and burned a few years ago in our set were all of folks older than us, so perhaps I shouldn't get too cocky.
I think what AML said is really interesting:
My vote is that we grew up thinking we could do anything and everything, all at the same time even, and that our lives would be fascinating and stimulating in ways that the women's lives around us (growing up) never seemed to be.
I didn't grow up this way. I didn't have very many expectations of my life -- and I certainly wasn't told I should -- so now I'm just pleasantly surprised. I keep mentally pinching myself, actually. If I had been raised differently I would have gone on a different path, more fierce, more ambitious, more daring. But I kept settling and settling, convinced what I got was merely my lot. And now to have everything I hadn't dared to hope for is almost ... well, I'm just happy. Lonely, but happy. That's my tradeoff.
Hmph -- *I* am *not* *yet* in my early 40s. I am in my late 30s. And my mom's theory is that women around 35-45 do have a developmental crisis so I'm right on time for mine. I thought I'd avoid it because the whole pre-Madison crisis but my mom LAUGHED at me when I told her this three years ago. Sympathetically laughed but didn't even pretend NOT to be laughing at me. And here I am!!!
The demonic toddler was better this week (mostly). I think your girls rubbed off on her.
i'm in my 30's, and most of my female friends are going through the same.
either going back to school, switching careers, wondering if they should switch, wondering what to do with kids more grown, etc.
i wonder if everybody goes through this, or if it is just that i am friends with the ones that do.
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