Just who do I think I am?

Sometimes, I wonder how I could possibly still be trying to figure out just who I am and where I fit in at my age.  I mean, shouldn't I know myself pretty well at almost 40? What kind of person doesn't get things figured out by mid-life?

Well, whatever kind of person I am, I suppose. Perhaps I'm just way too analytical for my own good. In a way, I think I want to put a label on myself, against my own better judgment. For as long as I can remember, I have felt like somewhat of a blacksheep. When I was a kid, I was intensely shy and wasn't good at making new friends. When I met someone I got along with, I tended to hang onto them as long as I could because that was easier than making new friends.  What usually ensued was that, eventually, I would find myself hanging out with people I had little in common with. I would try desperately to fit into the group for awhile, until it became overtly obvious I was not one of them.

I usually feel like I am at the fringes of any group of people I end up aligning myself with, and sometimes that bothers me a little bit. The up side is that I tend to fall on the fringes of many groups, which broadens my exposure to people with a variety of backgrounds. If I associated it with a statistical concept (and of course I do, because I'm that kind of nerd), I would be a point that doesn't fit well into any cluster. I'm kinda out there on my own. Which isn't such a bad thing, now that I think about it. I mean, I am not easily labeled, and that's a good thing, right? If that means that people have to spend more time to get to know me, then all the better. Hopefully the effort turns out to be worth it in the end.

The  point is, I find myself about to turn 40 and still kind of evolving, still not fully knowing who I am. And although it causes me distress at times, when I just want to fit in somewhere and know where that is, I am coming to peace with the situation. The idea of always changing as I age and my experience pool expands is actually very comforting. It means I am not really supposed to have things figured out because that's half the fun of life.

Going through this also makes me realize that everyone else likely goes through what I'm going through, to varying degrees. That is also a comforting thought, because I think we often feel alone in our struggles, failing to recognize they are more universal than they seem.

My Mid-life Whatever

About two years ago, what I have been referring to as my mid-life crisis began.  At right about that time, my whole world and future changed radically.  The trigger was our decision for my husband to accept a job in Salem, Oregon, which meant we would be moving across the country from our home in Cincinnati, Ohio, far away from everyone and everything we knew up to that point. 

When we made the decision, we were feeling a little disconnected from the community in which we lived, we were both dissatisfied with our jobs, and we knew that we had always wanted to move west.  In addition, we knew that a major chapter in our relationship would be ending as we awaited the inevitable death of our dog from cancer she'd been fighting for a year already. 

The agreement was that my husband would begin working for this company to help them open a plant in southern Kentucky, 2-1/2 hrs from home, and eventually we would make the transition to Oregon when we were ready.  This meant I would be alone 4 days a week every week, while my husband stayed in an apartment near his job, coming home on weekends.  So during this time, we had to prepare our house for sale in a shaky market and watch our dog die, and I had to decide what I was going to do for a job when we moved. 

I think all of that spurred me, a basically introverted person that shared my deepest feelings with very few people, even in times of great need, to change into someone that was unrecognizable.  Knowing I was leaving, I began to try to cultivate relationships more earnestly than I had before, and at the same time, I began to take risks and move outside my comfort zone in a way I never had.  I went from someone that hid my innermost feelings from almost everyone, sometimes even my husband, to someone that was more open and honest about my feelings than some wanted me to be.

I felt lost, and that's why I always referred to it as my mid-life crisis.  However, as I look back on that period, that is starting to become a memory, I realize that it might have been a mid-life re-discovery, rather than a crisis.  I opened myself to a lot of new things, but I also spent a lot of time trying to be what I thought other people wanted me to be or what I thought other people would like.  So in some ways, this was a good experience, because it forced self-examination on me, and I moved outside of my own box of what I was supposed to be to evaluate all my assumptions and beliefs about myself and others.  On the other hand, sometimes my self-examination led to a wholly self-centered attitude, in which I neglected those close to me in my efforts to be someone different. 

As the time to move grew near, I didn't want to leave Cincinnati. Even after we moved, I clung to new and old friendships and my memories of my home there desperately. Only very recently have I started to accept my new home and appreciate it.  The people in Salem are wonderful, and this is really a great place to live.  On the whole, I am actually very happy living here, and I am glad we had the courage to make such a change.

I am not sure I am entirely through this mid-life process yet, but I am on the tail end of it at least, and I have learned a lot about myself from it.  I now know that there is no peace in trying to be something I am not in my heart.  My true nature has to be allowed to come through, and I have to realize that the rest will fall into place, regardless of where I live.  There will always be some people that accept and understand me for who I really am, as well as those don't.  The former are the ones that matter to me.