A mindful midlife crisis – introduction

Welcome to your ringside seat at what might just be the start of my midlife crisis: would you like to share some crisps?

I appreciate that you haven’t been given much notice – it was not well advertised – that’s simply because I wasn’t planning on having one.  Definitely not right now.

Touch inconvenient, frankly.

I was, in fact, or so I thought, laying the foundations of being a fabulous forty-something.  I had resolutely decided to swerve crisis and do transformation.  My subconscious, soul, psyche, IBS, whatever, thought otherwise.

I had begun to eat healthily more often than not, spend a little bit less than our income more often than not, wipe the kitchen floor more often than not (resident mother-in-law would dispute that but she is only a recent resident and has no prior context and she is a superfreak about cleaning so her opinion doesn’t count).

It was all going okay, then boom: I am doing crisis, and I am doing it the angry way.

What a crap-load of unanticipated bollocks.

If you have been here before, you may have noticed the not-so-brief hiatus in blogging since my last post.  Over a month.  I thought I had writer’s block, nothing to say… nothing befitting of my quirky upbeat blog anyway.

Iiu Susiraja
Päiväkahvit by Iiu Susiraja – my heroine – if I could blog how she takes photos, I would be complete – http://www.iiususiraja.com

June disappeared in a fug.  I’m experiencing extraordinarily unusual-for-me bad moods and surprising myself with a very short temper at times.  It’s all a bit out-of-body experience right now but I admit, I can see some appeal in adopting this new snappy old cow persona for the long term.

I have facial hair that defeats Veet.  I am wearing out tweezers.  I thought that one bought a new pair of tweezers because one had mislaid their other pair of tweezers, not because they have actually stopped working.  I am going to have to open a care home for weakened and terrified old pairs of tweezers.  It’s the least I can do.

It’s not that I hadn’t realised I was approaching middle age, I just wasn’t silly bothered about it.  OK, so with average life expectancy I’m probably halfway through my go.  To achieve that average I need to shape up (literally and metaphorically in SO many ways), but I have acknowledged that and started slowly turning a good corner.  With a similar speed and grace to turning a gigantic navy battleship, granted, but I was turning a corner and cool with that.

Whenever I actually take a second to consider myself, I’m always a touch surprised by how mediocre I am.  And fat.  And with a posture more suited to an orang-utan.  But that’s nothing new, I’ve felt that was since I was about twelve…………

I have had a couple of conversations with teenage boys recently (to clarify: whilst being served by them in shops, I am not just going up to them at bus stops) and I have realised that I am a non-sexual being.  I am trying to say that in the least weird way I can: I do not actually want to get busy with a young boy, at all.

Both times I unintentionally saw myself reflected “#nofilter” in the blank non-look given only by a teenage boy, and I saw too clearly the image of someone who is the absolute epitome of mediocre middle-aged Mumsieness.

It’s not about being considered and rejected, it’s about not even being up for consideration.  It’s not being fat, having a hairy chin, anything like that.  It’s about being just about as far away from being a sex object (weirdoes to one side) as a pigeon or a protractor or a poppadom.

That’s what makes the guys buy the sports cars… finally I get it.  And that is what makes me sure that I am ready for my midlife crisis.

Worse still: upon becoming non-sexual beings, the only thing that Mumsies are good for (for the vast majority of bollock-owners on the planet) is a quick rustle-up of some pre-pub oven chips and the secret to the location of clean boxer shorts… as the resident mother-in-law does ALL the washing and ironing (yeah, fuck me, I know I know, fuck you back), I’m no good for that and I can’t cook oven chips either, they always burn.

Luuta by Iiu Susiraja
Luuta by Iiu Susiraja – my heroine – did I say already, if I could blog how she takes photos, I would be complete? – http://www.iiususiraja.com

From under the shroud of all my forlorn self-pity I have realised that, possibly, blogging my heartfelt grouchiness could be way more amusing and definitely more productive than staring at a blank computer screen because temporarily the “fuck yous” in my head aren’t cleverly wreathed in flowers and butterflies and carried on ribbons by songbirds, they’re coughed up by a chain-smoking eighty-year-old prostitute and spat into a dirty handkerchief held by a trembling horny tramp.

So welcome to the cheap seats.  (There are only cheap seats, I am in too much of a self-deprecating mood to have expensive seats at my mid-life crisis.)  Get comfy.  This is going to take a long while.

Huge huge shout out to Iiu Susiraja whose wonderful self-portraits I have ‘borrowed’ here.  Iiu, if you ever make your way here, I really hope you don’t mind, you are amazing xx

16 thoughts on “A mindful midlife crisis – introduction

  1. Oh thank fuck for that, I thought I was alone. I almost got a tattoo the other week, Hooray I can go out of my freaking head with company. Nice to meet you, my name is Kate and I too am terrifying tweezers. Now I plan to build my way out of this, (literally, I am doing DIY projects like there is no tomorrow). But in the meantime, I’m gonna keep designing my tattoo and searching for the perfect pair of tweezers.

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    1. Hiya! Nice to meet you too! I did the DIY thing last year… now run out of money and energy. I may take inspiration from you and reawaken the tattoo research. I’m thinking white ink… subtle or naff – not sure yet! Hope to see you ‘around’ here again xxxx

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  2. You have expressed all that my brain has contemplated the past few months. My reaction has consisted of many “oh fucks” as I can silently scream in one day. And I can say without a doubt that I have been in the exact situation of noticing that I am a non-entity to teenage boys and do, in fact, have saved photos of tattoos in my phone and retired tweezers in my drawer. Nice to meet you, my name is Sonja and I join you in suddenly turning a corner and finding myself in a slippery slide towards midlife crisis.

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  3. I hear you, I am feeling you (not in a pervy way). I have just started up a second blog, this one all about midlife and menopause. I had hoped that juggling 3 kids (2 with special needs) and a husband (probably also with special needs) would mean I wouldn’t have time for those things … But you know how it is – somehow you manage to fit everything in! I have become invisible and I don’t like it. Time to fight back … Only I’m not sure I have the energy.

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    1. LOL! I am not sure I can quite agree with your ‘somehow fitting it all in’!! But I am definitely committing to more ‘me’ time with less associated guilt… I am very quickly becoming immune to the wide-eyed wobbling-lipped “but WHY did you LEAVE ME???” like I abandoned the child and ran off with the circus when in fact I just went to the loo……….

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  4. I currently veer between relief that I am now effectively invisible (is this not what I have subconciously been aiming for all my life? ) and saddened that I am a now totally invisible to anyone in “that way”. . I am nobodies fantasy.. i am highly unlikely to be a mrs robinson.. I am not a cougar… I am not a milf. .. I am at best “niche”… but do I really want this to change? In theory I could lose weight, moisturise, wax, tan.. I might scrub up ok but then I would no longer be invisible.. and do I want all that comes with that? ?

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