Summer has finally arrived in my area, and with the end of the school year fast approaching, I find myself constantly questioning what I might be forgetting.
When is that field trip again? What did I volunteer to bring for the end-of-year celebration? And when does school actually end?
I’m juggling all of this solo, without another adult around to help me stay organized and sane. I’m also trying to carve out some enjoyable summer activities while allowing for some downtime. My teenagers are eager to spend time with their friends (without me), and they definitely don’t want me to fill every moment of their summer break like I did in previous years. Honestly, I’m ready to step back and let them have their freedom.
However, there’s something weighing on my mind: as soon as they get their first full week off, they will be heading north for a few hours with their father to his lake house (which I used to co-own) along with his girlfriend, her daughter, and the family dog. I’m genuinely glad they can create cherished memories on the water, jumping off the dock and enjoying late-night chats in their bunk beds, but this isn’t quite the life I envisioned for myself at almost 44 years old.
No one walks down the aisle, promising forever, expecting it to end, but it happens more often than you’d think.
What frequently leaves me pondering “How did I end up here?” is the time I spend apart from my kids, whether it’s for a night or an entire week. It feels entirely unnatural to me, and I doubt I’ll ever grow accustomed to it.
Just five years ago, I invested so much into our lakeside cottage, dreaming of weekends and family vacations there forever. I imagined how we’d make room for grandkids and envisioned buying a bigger boat for outings. I was always looking ahead, picturing a future filled with my then-husband and kids.
I genuinely love my new life. I truly do. I wanted the divorce, and I’ve managed to fulfill some significant dreams since then. I’ve overcome challenges that I thought were insurmountable because I had no choice and needed to figure things out for myself.
I’m proud of my strength and capability. Yet, despite these accomplishments, my life is far from what I anticipated, even while being incredibly fulfilling. I have my dream job, I’m a more engaged parent now than I was during my marriage, and I’m in the best physical shape of my life. Still, there are moments when I regret not trying harder to make my marriage work, even when separating felt like the right choice at the time.
I sometimes wonder if I’m on the right track. Did I make the right decisions? And there are days when I feel a deep sense of sadness over this.
Adding to this emotional mix, I catch myself thinking, “I’m too old to let this bother me. Haven’t I learned anything? Look at everything I’ve been through. When will I outgrow these feelings?”
Entering mid-life, I assumed I would be less affected by external circumstances, more accepting, and wiser. I thought I would have everything figured out by now, but that’s not how it feels.
This is often what trips us up the most—believing we should reach a certain milestone by a specific age and that we would be content at that point.
But that’s not the reality, at least not for me, a divorced woman who once yearned for a traditional family life. Not for my friend Emily, who feels lost about her identity now that her kids are in school. Not for my former colleague, John, who still rents despite working tirelessly in a job he enjoys, believing he would be a homeowner by now. And definitely not for my cousin, Alex, who has pursued his dreams meticulously but still questions whether he could have lived his life differently.
You can be happy and still feel lost at any age. You might wonder if you’re living the right life, if you made the best choices along the way, or if you traveled enough before starting a family.
Even if you’re thriving in your career, you might still be searching for that elusive sense of being settled. You can be in a fulfilling relationship and yet grapple with insecurities from your teenage years, questioning when your mindset will shift so you can finally let go of old beliefs.
We all seem to carry regrets, paths not taken, decisions we wish we could revisit, and things we wish we had said.
If you’ve got it all figured out, please share your wisdom! But chances are, whether you’re content or struggling, you’re wondering about the “what could have been.” Maybe finding comfort in knowing that we all share these feelings of regret will encourage you to take the chances you didn’t before.
The best advice I can offer is to keep moving forward instead of dwelling on the past. All we have is this moment, and I refuse to waste my “Now,” even if it comes with its own regrets.
Summary:
In mid-life, many find themselves grappling with unexpected emotions and reflections on their life choices. The author shares personal experiences of navigating parenting, separation, and the complexities of newfound independence while questioning past decisions. Despite achievements, feelings of loss and regret linger. It’s a reminder that even within happiness, one can feel adrift. Ultimately, the focus should be on living in the moment and embracing the present.