Charles* steps into my office. We exchange pleasantries about all things fun: His latest meal experiments, news of his daughter’s engagement, trips he dreams of taking. In typical Charles fashion he comments on the print of Cinque Terre, Italy adorning my office wall. “I’ll be back,” he chuckles.

Before long, our conversation turns toward what Charles feels behind his smile, his recent promotion, his picturesque home – behind the façade of who he’s always thought he had to be. 

He reveals new thoughts and feelings he has been having. Or are they old? Confusing ones. Memories surfacing that he had not meant to push down, but did. Losses, perceived failures, moments of hurt only he knows. He aims his words at the floor, and seldom makes eye contact.

Beyond the “midlife crisis” stereotype 

From an outsider’s perspective, the experience of guys like Charles - men in the throes of midlife - has often been misunderstood. Thanks to pop culture and pop psychology, we throw on labels like “midlife crisis,” conjuring images of motorcycles, plastic surgery, and affairs — caricatures that depict careless men making reckless decisions. 

The reality is that for many, entering the second half of life can be deeply destabilising. It can also offer a valuable opportunity both to reflect on the past and seek clarification for the future. Erik Erikson, the esteemed American psychoanalyst, developed a theory that helps unlock the so-called crisis and transform it into something worthy of our time and consideration.

The reality is that for many, entering the second half of life can be deeply destabilising. It can also offer a valuable opportunity both to reflect on the past and seek clarification for the future.

‍Stagnation and generativity

Understanding us to be both biological and social creatures, Erikson argued our psychosocial development occurs in stages, each with its own “task.” Between the ages of 40 and 65, Erikson suggests that we toggle between two poles: generativity and stagnation.

On the one hand, years of building — a home, a family, a career — arrives at a period of deep reflection for those of us willing to slow down. Perspective shifts to the next generation and consideration of your legacy.

On the other hand, those who struggle most in this period report an existential “stuckness” that cannot be shaken. Even energetic midlifers find themselves languishing  in bed while their mind tries to ward off that feeling of inertia. “What was it all for?” is a common reflection, even as they go about the day’s tasks. For many, a therapeutic examination of this sensation can help uncover beliefs and feelings that shed light on the cause.

‍Therapy as a tool for change

For Charles, therapy helped him acknowledge and uncover how his past was shaping his present. Remember how he could barely look at me while sharing honestly? Exploring this pattern revealed that he grew up in an emotion-phobic home. Like many of their generation, Charles's parents could not make space for their own emotions, let alone his. So Charles learned to suppress his emotions, too, which he did for decades, until his 17-year-old daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumour.

Once the levee of suppression broke under the weight of his love and grief, Charles found himself scared — terrified — by how much he felt, and even more by how alone he felt. “No one prepared me for this. No one knows me or how hard this has been for me. I walk into rooms and feel pressure to be Happy Charlie. I’m alone in this charade.”

Undoing aloneness 

Diana Fosha, the developer of the therapy modality Accelerated Experimental-Dynamic Psychotherapy (AEDP), often refers to therapy as the process of “undoing aloneness”. Where there was once isolation with overwhelming emotions and experiences, there can grow a sense of connection and increased processing. One of the most commonly reported sensations after processing trauma is that the memory still exists, but it no longer holds the emotional charge it once did. The “gut punch” has been removed from your most painful, intense memories.

As a trauma-informed therapist, much of the work I do with someone like Charles involves exploring the relationship between the past, the present, and the future.

Research shows that when we have experienced big T Traumas (war, car collisions, unexpected deaths) or little t traumas (bullying, repeated emotional invalidation from a parent), our nervous systems attach these negative sensations, emotions, and beliefs to that moment or series of moments. Clients report feeling young and scared when their spouse stonewalls them emotionally. Or wonder why their boss’s glare seems to shrink their 30 years of experience to nothing.

‍Exploring the past to shape the future

A skilled therapist will guide clients through their past with a view to living differently in the future. A new future, strengthened by increased self-awareness, where one can make decisions from a place of values and priorities rather than reactions to external triggering stimuli.

As for Charles, in addition to helping create greater safety and space for emotions - both for himself and those he loves - we also discovered that part of his “stuckness” was connected to the  trauma of his daughter’s diagnosis. We used eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) to remind his brain the event was over, and that she had survived. EMDR is the gold-standard trauma therapy to help process overwhelming events and complex relational traumas dating back to childhood. If you ask Charles about his daughter’s experience now, he will still tell you it was scary, and say so with direct eye contact. The memory no longer activates a fight or flight impulse.

A new way forward

Maybe you see yourself in Charles’ story. 

Maybe you too see a spark of hope for change within. Therapy can provide the oxygen to help that hope grow without judgement of pace or outcome. A good therapist blends their humanity and expertise to help you discover your own priorities and next steps.

A good therapist blends their humanity and expertise to help you discover your own priorities and next steps.

Those who enter therapy at the beginning of life’s second half exhibit the quality known as “transformance.” This is the wired-in orientation towards growth every human possesses. Paired with the generativity that’s accessible during this period, one can make radical shifts in mindful action, no longer restricted by past inner blocks.

Erik Erikson wrote extensively about midlife, but his writing focused on the potential for growth inherent in this leg of our journey. No crisis is to be found. It is time we abandon the pathology-riddled language of the “midlife crisis” and replace it with something more accurate. Something that captures the immense potential for a period of growth and reflection. A period with the potential to clarify life’s second half.

Midlife transformation has a nice ring to it. What do you think?
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* Charles is not a real client but a composite of midlife clients I have seen in my practice as a psychotherapist.