Lately, I’ve noticed something curious. People over 40—smart, responsible, well-established—suddenly start trying to prove something: that they’re still young. They run up the stairs when walking would do. They start wearing sneakers with blazers, dyeing their hair in trendy shades, or hanging out with their kids’ friends, trying to blend in. They cringe when someone calls them “Uncle” or “Aunty” and retort with a defensive laugh, “Hey, I’m not that old!”
It’s not vanity. It’s not even denial. It’s something deeper: the unsettling realization that the world no longer sees you the way you see yourself.
We’ve been taught to measure life by youth. Ads scream “anti-aging,” not “pro-aging.” Careers glorify the young disruptor, not the seasoned guide. Social media floods us with people half our age doing things we never dared to try. So what happens? We panic. We mask our age in fashion, behavior, and speech. Not because we want to be young again, but because we haven’t figured out who we are now.
And here’s the hard truth: If you find yourself overreacting when someone calls you old, trying a bit too hard to stay relevant, or feeling invisible in a room full of younger people… you might not be broken. You might just be in a midlife crisis.
- But what if we stopped calling it a “crisis” and started seeing it as an awakening?
- What if that discomfort is actually a sign that you’re ready to rediscover yourself, not as someone’s boss, parent, or spouse, but as you?
- What if ageing isn’t something to run from, but a signal to reinvent your sense of purpose, power, and presence?
Because here’s the thing: You’re not young anymore. But that doesn’t mean you’re done.
You’re seasoned. You’ve failed. You’ve succeeded. You’ve loved, lost, and rebuilt. That’s not something to hide—it’s something to own.
So maybe it’s time to stop chasing youth… and start embracing depth.