At some point in my late-thirties it hit me that I no longer wanted to have children. At the time it was an unhappy epiphany, but not a tragic one. While I’ll never know how I would have done as a parent, I’ve never really regretted not having kids.
During the past four years, I have lost my brother, sister and cousin, and I have, of course, been grieving for one of my children, who died six months ago. When my nephew came to visit during Thanksgiving, we were talking about this, as he went through some very hard months after his mother (my sister) died.
During the course of the conversation, he said something like “It’s a difficult process, to be sure; at some point, though, you have to decide which side of the ground you want to live on.” That was shockingly profound to me, and has helped me better cope.
I spent a lot of time and effort getting tenure. Once I got it I realized it didn’t solve any problems at all. I still had to put up with the same crap.
In my first career after the Navy I was a public school band teacher. After four years I realized, at age 31, that I could not depend on children and teenagers to be able to make a living.
So I went back to school and got a M.Sc. in computer science, then took a job as a systems analyst.
Thirty+ years later I realized I still could not trust immature people (my then-colleagues mostly) to be able to make a living. Where’s the surprise?
Now I’m mostly retired, but my company lets me work up to 330 hours a year doing pretty much anything I can justify as beneficial to the contract, customer, or the company. Oh, yes, I get a lot more time to sleep, and just about any time I want!
Actually that helps a lot - I have to age either way, I may as well do it while working at something I think I will love…right? 
I ran my first (and only) marathon at the age of 46.
I obtained my first (and only) bachelors degree at the age of 54.
mmm
Is it yet, yet?
I’m nearly 50. I wish I had learned to meditate as a kid.
I also wish that when someone teaches how to meditate, they would emphasize how to breathe. They say take deep breaths. But that’s not it.
It has to be diaphragmatic breathing. Breathing with your rib muscles can make stress and anxiety worse.
I figured it out. Once I did, my life changed.
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10 years ago, I realized that my specific skillset meant that “permanent contracts” were actually project-length contracts, but with a lower cost for the employer and less autonomy for me than if I set up shop as a freelancer. So, I did.
It’s a pain in the arse when it comes to trying to rejoin the ranks of the not-self-employed+, since most of the people involved apparently have no idea what “freelance consultant” means*, but except for that, one of the best decisions of my life. It even simplifies my taxes: I was up to 4 Tax IDs, now I work internationally but always pay my taxes in the same place. I even get to tell people who want me to use “their” invoice format that “no, because mine does follow my local government’s laws and regulations and yours doesn’t.”
- People who’ve never been freelancer consultants:
tend to think that what they pay a consultancy for us is the same that we get paid. Usually there’s two companies taking commisions (agency and consultancy) and I’m not talking about a paltry 10%.
tend to not understand that our resumes are lists of projects/clients, not of employers. If I make it “by employer”, the last 10 years I’ve had the same job. “Oh, you change jobs so often!” Uuurghhh… and then when I did provide a resume by employer, “oh, you haven’t received a single promotion in eight years?” Uggggh, I’m the CEO, President, HR manager, Finance manager, and everything manager of the company! And the sole peon as well!
- The “retirement dream job” for many freelance consultants is joining the IT Team in a non-IT company. You get to do the same job we already do, but without having to learn a new way to format your documents and a new slew of vocabulary every N months.
Not yet.
mmm
Wow. That is truly profound. Such a simple, straightforward statement that says much about recovering from grief. I’ll remember it.
That I am a damn good cook. That I probably have what it takes to do it professionally. And that it’s too late. I’m 56, work in a public library as a librarian and will retire from my current career in, oh who knows… 12-15 years. That’s OK, my family and friends can enjoy my culinary creations.
Just because I am really good at something doesn’t mean I am obliged to do it.
I worked in mental mealth for a decade, but the company I worked for was taken over by a bigger player and I no longer recognised what I was doing or how it was helping the people I was supposed to be serving. At the age of 50 I had no desire to climb the ladder higher in an organisation I didn’t respect or trust, so late last year I made the decision to resign and go back to language teaching, which I used to enjoy but hadn’t done for twenty years. This meant retraining to update my skills and get the recognised qualification in ESL, so in January this year I gave up a secure job for 6 months without income, the burden of course fees and no guarantee of future work, which was somewhat nerve-racking. But fortunately it all worked out, and I’m on a permanent contract in a school I like doing work I enjoy and find worthwhile, and no regrets about leaving the job that was starting to poison me. So this isn’t a “follow your dreams no matter what” post, but advice that a major life-change is possible, as long as you do your homework and go into it open-eyed.
I had what used to be called a nervous breakdown at 48 - and now they apparently don’t have great words for (an “episode of decompensation” maybe). I semi-retired and started bookkeeping for my husband’s business. Which has turned into a great retirement job - he had to divest, so I bought his part of the business he had with a business partner. I make about half what I did, but I’m way happier and work less than 1/4th of the hours.
He had to divest because at 52 he switched careers - he got an opportunity that he wasn’t sure about, but I though was perfect for him - that was a little over a year ago and it is perfect for him.
I’m also currently coaching two friends through similar events - one had an “episode of decompensation” and is trying to figure out how to survive on her husband’s much smaller income and what she wants to do - she managed to get on disability through her former employer - so for a bit she has a little room) - another got laid off at 50. “What do you want to be when you grow up” and “how can you afford to feed yourself while you do it” seems to be a common refrain at our age.
These two posts were consecutive, but they deserve to be together. I’ve always thought that the fastest way to hate what you love doing is to try to make a living at it. (Or, “you’re so good in bed, have you ever considered being a prostitute?”)
I can’t understand people who say cooking for one is too much trouble. I can make what I want the way I like it. I can experiment; it’s nearly always edible, or there’s pizza delivery. And there’s nobody to complain if dinner is Fritos and Dr Pepper.
At 43, I went back to school for a Masters. After that, I spent 10 years very happily substitute teaching. This past summer though, I’m now 53, something, I don’t know what, made me realize I needed something else, so I’m now teaching full time.
Read “The Top Five Regrets of the Dying” by Bronnie Ware.
But would you have enjoyed it ?
It seems to me that the restaurant business is horribly demanding : long hours, lots of stress and very risky financially.
At least now, you have a fine skill you enjoy and can share with persons you love. No downsides here.
The short version: I’m fifty, stop dreaming and start doing!
I had spent most of my life remembering with fondness my younger days as a machinist. At the time that work wasn’t very easy for a young guy to succeed in–too many super experienced older guys from the prior generation looking for work–so I made what turned out to be an excellent career switch and I have been in software engineering for almost thirty years now and I enjoy it.
But I never forgot the joy of making things out of metal. I would watch machining videos on YouTube and think “wow, I wish I knew that technique before” or “it would be cool to try that idea”, and I kept on dreaming, thinking how cool it would be to have a shop and do the work I loved and regretting that I wasn’t able to stay in that career.
Then I realized that I was reaching fifty with no more kids to raise, with enough money to set up a shop (more so than when I was young) and that my basement would hold a small machine shop quite easily. On the year of my 50th birthday I set everything up, milling machine, lathe, Kennedy toolbox, grinder, 2" sander, baby bandsaw, surface plate, and lots of machining paraphernalia,
And I love every bit of it.
Every evening I look at the plans for the latest steam engine I’m working on and figure out which part I’ll make. Nobody else cares, and that’s fine by me. This is just for me.
Here’s one of my engines–it’s about 6 inches long. Here’s a slightly more complicated one.
