When Life Throws a Curveball (or Two)
I always thought I knew what a “mid-life crisis” looked like. Maybe a flashy sports car, a sudden urge for adventure, a desperate grasp at lost youth.
But at 61, I figured I was well past that particular milestone. I was settled, grounded, and believed I had a good handle on who I was and where I was going.
Then, something shifted. It wasn’t a sudden crash, more like a slow, creeping fog rolling in.
A feeling of unease, a quiet questioning of… well, everything. It wasn’t despair but a profound sense of the unknown.
A feeling that the map I’d been following for decades had suddenly gone blank, right when I thought I was nearing familiar shores.
I tried to articulate it, this strange, undefined “funk.” It felt like standing at the edge of a vast, empty space, wondering what comes next. And in a moment of vulnerability, I shared this nascent, confusing experience with the one person I believed would always be there, the one who promised to have my back, to be by my side, always.
But “always” can be a fleeting concept, it seems. The moment I confessed to feeling lost, to not understanding my own internal landscape, the hand I expected to steady me withdrew.
The person who vowed unwavering support walked away.
And just like that, the uncharted waters I was already navigating became even more turbulent.
This isn’t about blaming; it’s about acknowledging a painful truth. When we’re grappling with our own internal shifts, when the very ground beneath us feels uncertain, the absence of expected support can feel like a secondary earthquake. It adds a layer of confusion and hurt that’s hard to reconcile.
So, here I am, 61, experiencing not a crisis of youth, but a different kind of reckoning. A “later-life transition,” perhaps complicated by the unexpected fragility of human connection.
It’s a journey into a new phase where the rules seem to have changed, and the companions you thought were steadfast might not be.
If you’re reading this and finding yourself in a similar space – perhaps questioning your purpose, feeling a subtle disconnect, or even facing the painful reality that not all promises are kept – please know this:
You are not alone.
This isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s a testament to the ongoing evolution of life. Our stories don’t end at 40, or 50, or even 60. We continue to grow, to change, to face new challenges and joys.
And sometimes, those challenges arrive in unexpected forms, forcing us to redefine ourselves, even in the face of loss.
I don’t have all the answers yet. I’m still in the fog, still trying to decipher this new map. But I’m learning that perhaps the most profound journey is the one we undertake when we don’t know the destination, and when we realize our greatest strength might just be our ability to keep walking, even when we walk alone for a while.
If you’ve been through something similar, I’d love to hear your thoughts. How did you navigate the uncharted waters? What did you discover about yourself when life threw you an unexpected curveball?
Slocum's Creak 