The Mid-Life Bridge

Do you remember a moment in your life where you knew things would never be the same? Think about those lifetime milestones like moving away from home for the first time, starting a new career, getting married or having children.

It feels like our entire life is organized by a set of preplanned moments for us to chase, conquer and celebrate. Sometimes they’re positive, other times not so much. We only discover the outcome after we cross over the bridge.

The bridge isn’t the milestone itself but that moment leading up to you taking a step toward it. It’s the anticipation on your wedding day, those last few days before you give birth, quitting a job to chase your dreams.

Standing at the bridge you feel calm, you know what you need to do. But it’s exhilarating, like going over the drop on a rollercoaster. Big changes are going to happen and quickly. Time stands still as you stare directly at your future, take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other.

Once you cross over the bridge, there is no return. You will never go back to the person you were before and you will see your life through a new lens. Although you are the same person, you are forever changed. Does that make sense?

Today I turned thirty-nine. Although I’m excited about what’s to come, I’m standing at the most uncertain bridge of my life. I’ve crossed so many already but this one feels different. Each one before me was new and exciting, this one has a foreign feeling and it’s left me with mixed emotions.

Until now, my journey felt like a train ride full of unique destinations, each with their own adventures. Suddenly there are fewer stops and I feel like I’m barreling down the tracks. It’s full speed ahead, what’s next?

Being in my thirties felt amazing. I was still young but equipped with so much more wisdom than I had in my twenties. I’m still learning who I am, I’ll always be a work in progress but I definitely know who I’m not. I know what I’m willing to give and what I’m willing to get in life.

I wish I could have told my twenty-year-old self to go easy on herself and not to worry as much, things turn out as they will. I’ve lived so many long days through fleeting years that I’ve earned a badge in tolerance and the privilege to live for myself and not for anyone else.

Some days I see my younger self in the mirror. She’s familiar and proud of her accomplishments but she looks tired. When I lean in for a closer look, I can see the odd white hair in my eyebrows which prompts me to pluck it out like it’s a virus that I need to eliminate from my face. There’s a panic inside me that I’m moving too fast and I’m just not ready to cross this next bridge quiet yet.

I tell myself I want to age gracefully, it’s who we are on the inside right? Honestly, I’m scared to death of watching my body deteriorate with each passing year. Do men feel the same way or is this the voice of female vanity?

I feel like hitting the pause button in my life now more than ever. My children are growing way too fast, my body hurts more than it used to and for the first time, I’m getting glimpses of what I’m losing rather than what I’m gaining in life.

I feel the ticking clock inside me. That window of knowing my last chance to conceive is around the corner. As much as I feel like I’m done, I’m not ready for it to be set in stone. It makes me sad and I wonder if these feelings will go away or if I’ll always think about how my world would have been different if I had made other choices.

One thing I know for sure, is that I wake up every day with so much more gratitude now than ever before in my life. Each moment that I catch a glimpse of a playful grin on son’s face or get a genuine smile with a “thanks Mom” from my teenage daughter, my heart swells with joy. My chest feels like it could burst as I beg to stay in the moment, willing it not to fade away until it becomes a memory.

Approaching mid-life feels like day four of a week-long vacation, you’ve crossed the half way point and suddenly you are closer to leaving than getting the party started. You’re finally getting the hang of things when your days are numbered, the second half always flies by faster than the first.

For now, I’ll pretend I’m on a two-week holiday and the best is yet to come. Telling myself I’m like a fine wine and that I get better with age. Faithfully stocking my wine rack for the days that I forget.