Despite many ‘midlife crises,’ she’s where she’s supposed to be

I had my first “midlife crisis” at 24.

The year 2000 had come and gone without a system-wide shutdown, but I was freaking out.

The second midlife crisis came when I was 26 — damn near 27 — at the sight of a single wiry gray hair among a sea of black hair growing from my head.

That wiry gray hair was the thing of nightmares. It was confident and had stage presence. It snapped back when called out.

“Isn’t it horrible,” I’d tell anyone who would listen. “Oh woe. Oh wah.”

For a while there, I was having midlife crises every other month as I tried to figure out this thing called life and my place on the third rock from the sun.

I should explain first that “midlife crisis” for the purpose of this column is not what most people imagine when they see the phrase “midlife crisis.”

Neither am I.

People think of the dudes like the ones married Goldie Hawn, Bette Miller and Diane Keaton to in 1996’s “The First Wives Club.”

A midlife crisis sufferer divorced his wife, got with a blond in a tight red dress, and put a down payment down on an even redder Mustang convertible.

He saw his teenage kids on the weekends and spent a lot of time at the golf course.

Those dudes were literally in the middle of their lives (somewhat) and had the hairline to prove it.

My midlife crises and his had one thing in common: the thought that time is running out, and we had better get as much out of life as possible while the getting was good.

Something better might be out there.

I did a lot running around like a chicken with its head cut off, even though I was far, I hope, from the midpoint of my life.

Is this what I am suppose to be doing?

Am I where I’m suppose to be?

Am I doing “it” wrong?

This, even though I’ve truly enjoyed what I am doing, where I am and how I’ve been doing it.

I’d like to say that I had my last “midlife” crisis long ago, but I would not want to lie to you.

I still wonder if Goldie Hawn, Bette Midler and Diane Keaton are the girls for me.

The difference is that I’ve figured out that what’s real is right in front of me.

It doesn't matter what I could be doing if I am loving what's right in front of my face.

Life is good. Life is what it is meant to be.

I still have far more black hairs than I do wiry gray ones, but I’ll be me even when the opposite is true.

No crisis necessary.

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