Who am I? What am I waiting for?

Standing at the threshold of midlife

Waiting. This was the word for the week in Beth Kempton’s (@bethkempton) online writing group. As I sat with my journal, associated words came tumbling forward; some with themes and stories, and most just skeletons—snippets of phrases.

Of course as it often does, it became clearer overnight. While I’d been thinking about the idea of waiting, it is actually more about it being time now— I’ve wait-ed long enough!

I’m at that time of life where it becomes necessary to truly reflect, deeply, on what kind of life I have now and how it's working for me. Is it nourishing? Does it bring me joy? What do I really need and want? Do I wake up feeling like I have a song in my heart that’s calling to be heard? Hmmm…

I’ll be 60 this year. I’m not sure why this feels so relevant and important for me to acknowledge, after all it’s just a number, right? And yet I’m sensing there are gems buried inside my decades that are asking to be revealed, and it seems the only way to unearth them is to focus on me and my needs.

Well, we know how challenging that can be, don’t we? We are so often expected to be things for other people, and over time our shapeshifting ways of pleasing others results in us not knowing who we really are—and feeling selfish spending any time with or for ourselves. And so here I stand at this threshold, digging into my courage and wondering—who am I really? If I strip away the roles and expectations (real or imagined), who is the me in my heart?

What a powerful revelation to see this gap of awareness. I’m no stranger to inner work, in fact the past year has been one of shedding and digging in the shadows deeper than at any other time in my life. Yet all of this work has still left me with this question. Perhaps I’m not alone in this? Perhaps this is exactly what it is to be a woman at midlife?

Photo by Cam Seguin at camseguin.com

My journalling lately has been lengthy and revealing. Thinking back only a few weeks, I now giggle as I remember writing “the season of me” and feeling terrified because I didn’t know what that meant. Isn't it an interesting part of the journey when we can look back and remember our reaction to something, and then witness a new perspective as we look at it with present-day eyes. That’s what I’m seeing now. An acceptance and a willingness to consider where I’ve been and how that informs where I want to go and who I want to be.

Part of this process of getting to know my present Self is to remember who I once was. The happy and unhappy bits, and those parts where I felt strong and confident and vibrant, too. What was it about those times that created the sense of me being content and confident in myself? What did that version of me know that I may have forgotten? Of course my circumstances are different now, and the world is very different, however those parts of me are still there waiting for me to find them again.

Photo by Melissa Askew on Unsplash

Much of this inner exploration is through words and writing, which brought another giggle as I remembered. I’ve always been a “word girl”. Growing up I was fascinated by accents and language and the nuances of words. So much so that when it came time to consider university, Mum suggested I do something language-based. Of course the 17 year-old-rebel-me knew better, and she took that advice and enrolled in a Science program. Mum did have the last laugh however, as after 2 1/2 years I realized that science and the required math were not for me…and I ended up with a degree in Linguistics. I’m pretty proud of that rebellious 17 year-old testing her independence; and I’m grateful for not only that experience but also being able to look back on it now and chuckle as I think about how that particular chapter unfolded.

Recollections like this allow glimpses into aspects of myself that I might have forgotten through life’s twists and turns. Remembering, sitting with what comes up, and considering how these pieces might fit together for present-day me, feel like they are all part of the process. There’s much more to explore, and I’m curious about the role that words and writing will play in me finding my courage and my voice.

What I do know is that gently shifting my perspective has allowed me to consider this threshold as a beginning rather than a winding down. The waiting is over, and I’m sensing an opportunity to re-imagine myself and create this next chapter of my life.

I’m playing with the idea that this season of me is more of a grand adventure than a terrifying ordeal. It could be an opportunity to open doors which I didn’t know existed or thought had disappeared. Maybe behind one of those doors I can rediscover the me I thought I’d lost (maybe even that brave 17 year-old rebel!).

This season of being can be the space I need to spend time exploring what I love to do now; and a time to create my life on my terms. It sounds a lot, and balancing with family and other obligations makes it more so. Each of us has our unique circumstances and we do the best that we can for ourselves, right? I’m grateful to have the support of family that allows me the space to do this, and I recognize how fortunate I am.

What is this time at the threshold like? I’m still learning and don’t really know yet! Is it hard work? Like every quest we undertake, I’m guessing that it can be. Is it worth it? Well, I’ll let you know…but I’m thinking that it absolutely is not only worth it, but vital!