Breaking from My Super Mid Midlife Lifestyle

who's diving into midlife?

personal stories, self-care, reflection, and healing refreshers for the soul.

It’s like, I think I’m mostly in the next phase of bein’ mid. Filling out the mid-ness of mid-life. Not even bothered. Doin’ me, hanging. The 40s! It’s about that time. 41 is creeping up next month. Signs of my age are everywhere.

In town, guys younger than me are old enough that they’re applying to drink at their second members-only club for “cheaper drinks.”

A way young Gen Z friend wanted to know about life before the internet and iPhones, like it happened on another planet.

“What was it like? I wish I got to experience that.” And y2k: “Did you know at the time that technology—?” I aged to 75 during that convo.

I hear myself tell stories about long-closed bars in New York City, little name drops for no one. I can embrace that. We gotta age out.

Occasionally my phone brings me outta midlife mid behavior. Extremely unexpected callbacks to a livelier me.

Like, someone’s IG story sharing a clip from a skate video premiere: a skater I don’t really know. We smashed—once, regrettably. tf is this kid doing in my feed? I genuinely giggle! Metaphorical board slaps 🔥

How do I know anyone?! Not from staying in, quietly midlife-ing it up. I love it tho, trust.

A friend and I got together recently. Topics: higher thread count bedsheets, my first pair of readers, emailing customer service, getting refunds over the phone—newer interests, necessities, and nit-picky habits. He’s been ready for this since he was 14.

Slow, simple comforts, evenly considered. Previously it was blurred noise mostly all the time. This is my serene era.

And yet—

midlifin it mane

One night out, and I’m knocked into shuffle mode. I’m only just meeting the comparitively toned down version of me when I’m out.

Midlife me in a dive bar:

1. drinks a couple Modelo’s after a quiet martini across the street

2. gets flirted with by a guitarist who is so, so young. ohh thx, dear! *pinches cheek*

3. is deadass astounded to learn that a Brooklyn band is touring through my tiny hometown to play a show!

4. I should stop retelling my mom’s story about the Polish Club and the song “Bad Moon Rising” (not only way too dark, it’s too townie; I could say it to the wrong person)

Just number 3 was totally worth the eyeliner. Firsthand, positive proof that this town (sorry, “city”) has changed.

Spontaneous nights out are possible without ruining my entire life like I used to (like, up til the age of 38!). I’m comfy at home and need someone to remind me to go out, forgetting I gotta be that person. Forgetting, too, that I will know people once I go out.

The bar’s an option I don’t wanna mess up. My faith is restored.

Occasional, mild-mannered wile outs are back. This is how I mid midlife.

Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar: “There are so many gorgeous men there. We’re talkin’ Tommy Bahama from head to toe. Put that with a 24-hour CVS and you got yourself a party.” And, no, this does not apply to the dive bar in the least.