{"id":29869,"date":"2015-11-18T06:00:38","date_gmt":"2015-11-18T14:00:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/?p=29869"},"modified":"2017-07-07T15:22:59","modified_gmt":"2017-07-07T22:22:59","slug":"the-myth-of-the-male-midlife-crisis","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/myth-of-the-male-midlife-crisis-1118154","title":{"rendered":"The Myth of the Male Midlife Crisis"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"MotorcyclistAs a psychotherapist who helps a lot of middle-aged men<\/a>, I have learned that, as with so many pop psychology clich\u00e9s, there is much more to the male “midlife crisis<\/a>\u201d than meets the eye. The problems and challenges that crop up in middle age are less about outside circumstances, which we can\u2019t control, and more about one\u2019s psychology and perspective. In the paragraphs that follow, we\u2019ll discuss (1) how this so-called crisis is really an intensified version of an issue that\u2019s always present, (2) why that is, and (3) what can be done about it.<\/p>\n

We are familiar with the pop culture-inspired image of the middle-aged man who suddenly feels \u201cold,\u201d his youthfulness scarily draining away, which leads to a reckless fling or pursuit of a younger woman, often with disastrous results. Think of Kevin Spacey in American Beauty<\/em> lusting after his teenage daughter\u2019s friend; two grown men behaving like the erratic college roomies they once were in Sideways<\/em>; or Michael Douglas in Fatal Attraction<\/em> (note how well that<\/em> worked out!).<\/p>\n

Whatever your moral view, these dramatized antics often strike a chord with audiences. Why is that?<\/p>\n

The issue isn\u2019t so much moral as one of perception. It calls for deeper understanding of one\u2019s own inner world, and of one’s own\u00a0vulnerability.<\/p>\n

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In middle age, many men find, perhaps for the first time, that mortality becomes real, physical<\/em>, in a way that can\u2019t be denied. But that mortality, our human vulnerability, is always present, whether we are conscious of it or not.<\/p>\n

One of the great privileges of youth is denial of that limitation, an embrace of invincibility, a vital rebuke to the idea of aging<\/a> and death. Life is finite. This implies not only our own eventual demise, which scares us, but also the demise of those closest to us (also scary). We all have to live with a ticking clock, which is both a curse and a blessing; I\u2019ll explain why later. At a certain point, the clock can no longer be ignored.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m thinking of some of the men in therapy with me who are creeping up on middle age and noticing their bodies don\u2019t quite have the same resilience; no more boxing, no more marathons. Such activities had lent an aura of invincibility that won\u2019t be coming back. Suddenly, eight hours of sleep seems very important, and the mind isn\u2019t quite the steel trap it used to be. Viagra and Cialis are given a look, and body parts that weren\u2019t even on the radar begin to ache. (As I write this, my lower back is sorer than it used to be.) That ticking clock makes its presence known, in ways both subtle and obvious.<\/p>\n

It was always there, of course, but we tend to deny it\u2014which is not to say we ought to obsess or brood over it like Woody Allen in Hannah and Her Sisters<\/em>, where he says, \u201cDo you realize what a thread we\u2019re hanging by?\u201d\u00a0But sooner or later, deal with it we must; our aches and pains and other signs of compromised endurance serve as uncomfortable reminders that time is a kind of currency, and none of us has unlimited amounts to spend.\u00a0We must, at some time or another, consider how we really\u00a0want to be spending it.<\/p>\n

Sometimes, other unexpected losses occurring in middle age can be uneasy reminders of that existential clock: we may lose a high school friend or a parent; we might experience new medical issues<\/a>; we find ourselves unhappy with our work or career; or perhaps longstanding relationship\u00a0issues<\/a> become more challenging. Knowing we\u2019re mortal intellectually is very different from sensing it in our very bones.<\/p>\n

These and other encounters with mortality are indicators of what psychoanalyst and philosopher Robert Stolorow (2007) calls \u201cfinitude,\u201d the concept that to be human means accepting the finiteness of time and human limitations, including the big kahuna of mortality itself. These reminders can themselves be \u201ctriggers\u201d for those who experienced\u00a0trauma<\/a> earlier in life. Psychologists sometimes call this \u201cemotional linkage.\u201d<\/p>\n

Can\u2019t we just have a fling or watch some porn or take a pill?<\/p>\n

I think this is why therapy<\/a> can seem so frightening. In therapy people face\u00a0their vulnerabilities\u2014and that\u00a0can mean acknowledging\u00a0that clock, which even therapists are sometimes reluctant to recognize. (Those of us in helping professions who duck the issue, who don\u2019t face it in some basic way, are doing ourselves and the people we work with\u00a0a disservice.)<\/p>\n

Often a man will internalize mortality as \u201cweakness\u201d and respond by trying harder at the gym, ignoring aches and pains, working more, seeking more sex or self-validation by making more money, etc. Consumption of booze, porn, and other \u201cmedication\u201d may also increase. All of these, of course, are Band-Aids. These things are reliably diverting only for a while<\/em>. Ultimately, they fail to address the problem in a fulfilling way psychologically or emotionally.<\/span><\/p>\n

One thing that surprises many men who come to see me is that the limitations and finiteness they are encountering in a newly anxious way have, as noted earlier, been there all along. The loss of the ability to box, run, work, work out, and have sex<\/a> with the same vigor and stamina may be subtle, if potent, reminders of times in the past when one felt overwhelmingly weak or defenseless in the face of unbearable pain. Perhaps abuse<\/a> or abandonment<\/a> occurred and equally intense self-protections were needed, ways of building the person back up again. The original trauma\u00a0may have necessarily been forgotten for the sake of survival, but here are those feelings and memories\u00a0again, with their same implications of shameful “weakness” and vulnerability. Losing one\u2019s youthful strength can feel like losing the armor that protected us for so many years, plunging us into anxiety<\/a> and uncertainty.<\/p>\n

Often a man will internalize mortality as \u201cweakness\u201d and respond by trying harder at the gym, ignoring aches and pains, working more, seeking more sex or self-validation by making more money, etc. Consumption of booze, porn, and other \u201cmedication\u201d may also increase. All of these, of course, are Band-Aids. These things are reliably diverting only for a while<\/em>. Ultimately, they fail to address the problem in a fulfilling way psychologically or emotionally.<\/p>\n

Ironically, it\u2019s almost a blessing that time is limited. The finiteness of time gives the present its value; it forces us to focus on what truly matters to us: soulful versus immediate gratification. (Not that there\u2019s anything wrong with the latter, provided it\u2019s not the only <\/em>means of enjoying life.) If time and youth were infinite, we might not find value in the present, in the moments we get to share with each other, or in the wondrousness of our world.<\/p>\n

When we can at least take a stab at accepting our humanness, when we can live in abundance and in the present moment\u00a0no matter our\u00a0circumstances, then our world can open up to us in unexpected ways. Human connection becomes more valuable, and authenticity and emotional truth become something to strive for rather than fear or dread. As we come to accept that, as men, it’s OK to need support and love from others in facing what is frightening, we can better help and support others in their own times of grief and loss<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Of course, facing our humanness can be\u00a0very difficult and messy, and often prompts the raising of hairy questions such as, \u201cAm I happy in my work? At home? How do I deal with aging parents and their impending loss? Is it time to forgive and forget? What do I really <\/em>care about? Will the \u2018real me\u2019 please stand up?\u201d<\/p>\n

This is not to say, by the way, that physical activity or outside \u201cstuff\u201d doesn\u2019t matter. (I would not turn down a free sports car.) It\u2019s just that so many men who come to me for help have put all of their psychological eggs in that particular basket. When the basket begins to fray, panic sets in. It\u2019s when our usual\u00a0\u201cfixes\u201d stop working that real therapy begins. (Carl Jung<\/a>, for one, felt that therapy truly began in middle age.)<\/p>\n

So many who begin working at this\u2014via therapy, creativity, spirituality<\/a>, relating more closely to others, or other means\u2014discover that, in the end, there\u2019s nothing to be afraid of. There is sadness and loss, yes, but also greater capacity for connection, even joy. There is as much beauty in the human soul as in the natural world, if not more so. Some tender scrubbing at a tarnished heart often reveals a priceless gem. Hard to believe? Why not try it?<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not the fears<\/a> and hidden demons that can hurt us, it\u2019s the persistent avoidance of them <\/em>that gets us into trouble.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s no shame in asking for help (from a therapist, religious or spiritual adviser, trusted friend, even a family member). The practice of gazing, with assistance if need be, into our own psychic mirrors in the end helps us enjoy even more<\/em> the joys of exercise, food, drink, sex, and embodied aliveness.<\/p>\n

Water is most valued when the well runs dry, as the old saying goes. I believe we are meant to enjoy our pleasurable sensory experiences, but not as a total escape from our all-too-human situation. We are all in the same boat with this than most of us ever realize.<\/p>\n

Reference:<\/strong><\/p>\n

Stolorow, R. D. (2007). Trauma and human existence<\/em>. New York: The Analytic Press.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

We’re all familiar with the pop culture-inspired clich\u00e9 of a man, mired in a “midlife crisis,” exhibiting reckless behavior. But what’s really going on here?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1061,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_crdt_document":"","_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[542],"tags":[31,245,394,25],"class_list":["post-29869","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-featured-articles","tag-psychotherapy-practice","tag-mens-issues-psychotherapy-issues","tag-midlife-crisis","tag-psychotherapy-issues"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29869","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1061"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=29869"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29869\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=29869"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=29869"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.goodtherapy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=29869"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}