Help! I don't know what I'm doing with my life

Independent

2 days ago

I've been watching Michelle Williams portray Molly Kochan in Dying for Sex on Disney+ – and it's made me seriously reflect on my own life.
In the show, Michelle (as Molly) gets diagnosed with stage four cancer and decides to blow up her existing relationship in the pursuit of pleasure. Cue: a lot of sex, some good – some bad – and some serious self-reflection. She ends up finding out exactly who she is and what she wants. And even though the story is heartbreakingly tragic, watching it made me realise one thing: that I'm jealous. Because even though she is dying, she's figured it all out – and I haven't.
I don't know what I want or who I am! I'm 45 – I'm supposed to have it all nailed by now: be settled in my marriage, with kids, a good career and a house. So why don't I? Am I having some sort of clichéd midlife crisis?
Existential angst
Dear existential angst,
I've had a slew of similar letters recently from people of all different generations – from twenties to fifties, Gen Z to boomers. You really are not alone – that may help ease your discomfort a little, or it may not. But I certainly don't think that what you are feeling deserves to be called 'cliché'.
At some point we all – every single one of us – experience what I like to refer to as a 'dark night of the soul' (and in truth, it's usually a little longer than a single night). It can happen at any age when we don't know who we are or where we are supposed to be – yet all around us lies the pressure of these two words: 'supposed to'.
In our hyper-dynamic, over-achieving society, we feel like we are 'supposed to' do all the things you mention in your letter: marry, have kids, an ace career, get a mortgage. When in reality, we're living through austerity, the gender pay gap and a dating, fertility and housing crisis – not to mention the ongoing struggle to reconcile our position within a world facing widespread global unrest, war and famine.
None of this is easy. If you're feeling anxious and uneasy, it is entirely understandable.
I want you to know that I don't take what you're feeling lightly – but I do believe that what you're experiencing at the moment isn't just incidental, it is critical. However uncomfortable it feels, it is fundamental to your personal growth. It is part of the human process. And at 45, it's just a marvel it's waited this long to blossom. Well done for fending it off for so long.
I believe that underscoring the existential ennui, paralysis and angst you describe is a period of profound internal change. We go for years focusing on the next step in front of us. As we grow and develop from childhood to teens, to young adults who enter higher education or the workforce, everything is laid out. Planned. We know where we are expected to be. If our own family doesn't set the path for us, society does.
And then at some point, we stop blindly and ambitiously taking great leaps forward and we ... pause. We stop progressing in a straight line and finally take space to look around us at what we have (or don't have). Sometimes, these periods of self-reflection coincide with a major life event – bereavement, birth, marriage or divorce. It's at that critical juncture that we catch our breath and think about whether it's what we actually want.
This period can be exciting, overwhelming, even frightening – but it's also crucial. If you don't pause and slow and take time to 'check in' with yourself (from your body to your heart and mind) then you're anaesthetised to what is most important: self-reflection. You can't translate what makes you happy and fulfilled if you're disconnected from your feelings.
Writing things down always helps me make sense of inner turbulence: so start with what is at the top of your 'worry list' right now. Then, as roughly as makes sense, use it as a flow chart to find all the small ingredients, nameless fears and anxieties that are contributing to that. Once they're down on paper, just for you to see, you can try and look at ways to solve them or to enact meaningful change.
A very important note: when we feel like you do, it can be tempting to act rashly. To blow up that relationship, to quit that job. I don't want you to act – but I do want you to write down how you are feeling, to breathe and then to sit on it, for a while. You're pausing now, so pause some more. Take your time to figure out if this is a panic response or if you want actual change.
Above all, I want you to try to take the fear away from what you're going through. I want you to reframe this 'crisis' and think of it as not just normal, but vital. I want you to applaud yourself for taking that breath and that pause; for being brave and willing to look at your life and scrutinise the bits you might want to build on, change or improve. And I want you to lean in.