Saturday, September 25, 2010

Feeling Lost in Midlife


Soon I'll be sharing notes from a conference called "Lost in the Middle," based on Paul Tripp's book of the same title. But first, a bit of journaling from the heart of a woman who feels, more often than not, lost in midlife and wondering who she is now that her wedding veil has long since yellowed and her lap is vacant of wiggly wee'uns.

My husband and I, who are in our 40s, thought we were maybe feeling a sense of "lostness" a few years ago when the oldest child was graduating from high school and his stair-step siblings were on the cusp. We could envision paying three college tuitions every year for a few years, but knew that it'd go by like a heard of zebras on the savannah--one quick blur of black and white. And then --then what?

But it was nothing like we've both felt lately, when the kids truly are (except for one) full-grown and seemingly independent and don't really need us and scarcely ask our input. It's not like they need "permission" as young adults and it's not like any of them (except the eight year old "bonus child") snuggle up to invent bedtime rhymes and read Little Visits with God.

Life has marched on, and our life as a couple is not all about being parents anymore. We never thought it was before, but I think we were mistaken. We now go on dates and often sit in silence because the conversation does not naturally default to the children. Sometimes we discuss them, but it's not like our world is our kids. We're not pinching pennies or worried about retirement. We have our health. I have my parents. (He lost both of his, sadly, in his twenties.). I try not to think of the reality that my folks will probably be "needing" us in ways that children don't want to be needed, because it's a sure sign we're not children anymore and haven't been for a long, long time.

I've gotta tell ya, it is an awkward feeling, this thing of midlife identity. I am no longer always known as "Ben's mom" (or Sarah's or Stephen's). I don't have to talk to their friends' moms in order for them to get together. They have keys and cars and phones and laptops; that's how life is. For the most part, they have their world (college classes, work, homework,friends, music). And we have our world. Except that ours feels strangely empty sometimes. Even when six people are here, it doesn't feel like we're on the same page, because the truth is, we're not. Our lives don't seem to intersect as much as parallel. I miss the old days. I want the snuggle time. I sometimes want to be called "Mommy" by a three-year-old. I want to hold one soft hand on either side of me when I cross the grocery store parking lot.

But then I think, I do like going to the grocery store without having to put anyone into a cart or worry if they're standing up in it about to do a free-fall to plastic surgery of the face. I don't miss the whiney stage one bit. In fact, when I hear a whiner, I just want to stuff a sock in the kid's mouth and tell the parent who is giving into it to wise up to the brat.

Potty training is something I'll never have to dread again. No one needs food cut up, and everyone can enjoy an hour and a half of adult conversation in a nice restaurant when we're all out together. We don't have to deal with high chairs and booster seats and packing a dozen extra things before a day out. No stroller, no Cheerios, no sippy cups, no scheduling our social lives around a baby's nap time. (Now we schedule around my nap time!)

I don't miss the dramatic meltdowns of a prima donna.

But I miss the little girl I had who would tell her baby dolls "little go-wi'll 'tories) like the little girl stories I would tell her at night.

I don't miss the fighting over who gets the windows and who has to sit in the middle.
But I love the rare occasions when all six of us get to ride in the same vehicle.

I don't miss getting up to fix everyone breakfast at the same time.
But I miss like crazy having all my family at the same table at least once a day. If it happens once a week now, I feel it's a treat. The treat is usually spelled WEWILLPAYFORYOURLUNCHAFTERCHURCHWANNACOME?

I could go on. I am feeling all sorts of strange and scary feelings deep in my heart right now, which I mostly push aside so that I don't shrivel up into a blubbering mass of protoplasm. Mostly I feel invisible. That's probably the worst of it. Feeling at 45 that I'm somewhere lost in the middle between a has-been and a wanna-be.

10 comments:

Danielle said...

I had to laugh at the sentence: "But then I think, I do like going to the grocery store without having to put anyone into a cart or worry if they're standing up in it about to do a free-fall to plastic surgery of the face." Yeah. That's my life.

I admit, though, sometimes I do daydream about what it will be like when we're at your stage of life. Daydream in anticipation for spur of the moment date night outings that don't include getting a babysitter.

But really, I know I'll miss this stage that I'm in. I do. But I also want to be wise to prepare for the inevitable future too, as much as one can for that sort of thing.

I never thought of "preparing" for the empty nest stage--and I have a long way to go--until I heard Barbara Rainey speak on Revive our Hearts in reference to her book: "Barbara & Susan's Guide to the Empty Nest: Discovering New Purpose, Passion & Your Next Great Adventure." It made me realize that even now I'm cultivating attitudes and relationships that will impact the mid-life/empty nest a great deal. A lot to think about. Look forward to your next post on the subject!

Sorry for the long comment. :)

zz said...

Danielle, our spur-of-the-moment dates w/o a sitter are only because we have built-in sitters (who actually aren't always available as often as you'd think).

I don't really have an empty nest, but I'm curious to read that book someday.

Right now I mostly fight the temptation to think that our lives as young parents were the good ole' days and that everything is downhill from here. Seriously. Many of our friendships were because our kids were playmates with their kids. Many of the friendships remain, but none are super close like they were in the 80s when we "did life" together rather than schedule eveything.

Well, this should be my next post, not a comment!

zz said...

80s and 90s, I should say.

Rachelle said...

Thanks for this post. It really resonates with me as I contemplate this scenario soon. Next year(technically 2012) the dominoes will begin to fall and in only 7 years my nest will be empty...and I'm 37. I love this time right now; I cherish the moments when my daughter tells me all about her day or when my son goes outside and plays "air jousting" with a stick. Everyone told me that it would go by quickly, but I just didn't understand until I was here.

Danielle said...

I know you don't literally have an "empty nest" but are in the same life stage: relating to adult children, etc.

None of my friendships are as close as I'd like either. I feel like I'm "in limbo" and have been for several years in terms of close female relationships for various reasons. Most of the friends I had as a single/first married in the church have moved, etc. Now in this stage it's hard to establish new relationships. That said, I don't feel friendless. I feel like I have lots of friends--too many at times--to invest in. I could get together with about any gal at church and have a great time, even have a deep spiritual conversation, but all those friendships are on the same level. I feel like I've been praying for just one friend to go "the next level" with friendship/spiritual-wise. If that all makes sense.

Danielle said...

And I'm talking about friendships in church here, not outside of church.

zz said...

Danielle, you are not alone in this prayer for a close friend. I have heard from several women of different ages who long for this "next level" of friendship. It's a strange thing how having many friends doesn't substitute for one "Jonathan/David" type. Even in the church I stay guarded in some area of my life. The people who have seen me at (almost) my worst and stuck with me are few and far between...and I still have nagging doubts that they, too, will go away, and stop being friends when we stop having things in common that bring us together .

It doesn't really help me to hear pat answers like "God wants to be your best friend" because when He was all that Adam had, he saw that Adam needed a human companion, flesh and bone to "do life with" --and that was in a perfect world!

That said, He is the only One who loves me unconditionally. With everyone else, there is a measure of a checklist I feel I must fulfill and then submit for review. I have not been able to tell everything to even one human person in all my life . I am too afraid to lose the good friends I have in order to find one who will let me say absolutely anything and still love me and treat me as they would before they found out how ugly I can be down deep. That's pretty much my take on why it hasn't happened. I've gotten very close, but only God is my perfect Friend. He proved His love first; He didn't wait for me to put Him to the test of friendship. He loved me while I was His Enemy. That is true love, true friendship.

Laurie said...

Zo- This time of life is so weird and somehow seems a time to expect a deeper level with God as things change and progress calling us to trust Him more. It's almost as if our feelings of being invisible designs a settling-in with our Creator Who understands invisibility! This time of life has come quickly and I keep praying that I'll soon get in the groove of what it is all about! So far it seems to be a time for gracious retrospection and hopeful pressing on! It calls for an increase of faith and wisdom which come from God alone! Hmmm! ;)
I said all that like I "get it"!
I don't always "get it", but I do want it!!! You too? Press on!

zz said...

Laurie, when I pray "more of You and less of me" and the result is a perception that "none" of me is left--or at least that invisibility I'm talking about feels prominent--I have to trust that He sees me, He knows me, and He hasn't left me.

Then I realize that I'm far too introspective and just need to think differently...think Phil 4:8 thoughts and then pour my life out to others and not expect the kind of "daily, in-your-life-stop-by-for-coffee" kind of friendship I long for. There's obviously soemthing God would rather I have than that first.

Amy said...

wasn't going to say anything other than offer a *hug* and an "I'm listening"...but boy am I SO right there with you and Danielle...D, I pretty much could have written everything you said!!