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A Midlife Crisis or a Midlife Unraveling? 

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The past few years I have become increasingly aware that I should feel free and brave by now with my continuous journey of self-discovery and openness to dive deep into my story and find out what makes me who I am. Four years ago, I boldly took off my armor temporarily and stood naked, so to speak, for the first time in many years, as I came out of the mental health closet. Maybe, it was really for the first time ever.

As the unraveling began, I didn’t find myself living with adventure and growing into my gifts, feeling an abundant sense of relief and joy. I tried. Goddammit, I tried. So, when I didn’t feel that way I reverted to armoring up to safety.

Midlife is not a crisis. Midlife is an unraveling. Midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear: I’m not screwing around. All of this pretending and performing – these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt – has to go. Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy and lovable, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever. Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through your veins. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.” – Brené Brown

Here I am teetering on the outskirts of midlife, and I sometimes still feel more lost than I have ever been. The idea that the truth shall set you free, and being vulnerable is the starting place of healing and change, is something I have learned and preached to others. My ongoing struggle of self-exposure lingers between the shame that still tries to weigh me down, and the continuous comparing myself to others. This can make it difficult to practice what I preach sometimes.  

So, as this midlife status lingers, I am bombarded with the reality that time is running out. I panic and think, how will I feel about my life when I am the age my dad was when he died? Will I have regret that I let anxiety rule much of my life? Will I feel like a failure from walking away from my career in 2008 and never quite being able to find my place in the world since? Will the feelings of inadequacy still be there? Will I feel proud that I armored up to protect my heart and soul at the expense of an adventurous and carefree life? Or will I feel shame that I worried too much what other people thought?

I don’t know. I only know that time feels like it’s creeping up on me. I don’t know if it’s because this past year has been a very grief- and death-intensive year and the reality of the life cycle is sinking in, or that when I get up off the floor my hips remind me, I am not 25 anymore. I have had a few close calls with death, and I am not ignorant to the fact that I am lucky to be alive.

I used to think midlife was all about the struggle and fear of getting older that could be resolved by buying a sports car, finding a younger man or going hiking in the mountains, but here I am at midlife and none of those things ever cross my mind or appeal to me.

If midlife is about questioning where you have been, where you are going and deciding if you are going to be you or the facade you have been portraying for years, then I am definitely at midlife. I am at that place of questioning everything. I am at that place where my coping mechanisms and armoring up are starting to piss me off, even though it’s been a knee-jerk reaction in life that I’ve gotten used to. I feel the universe’s hands upon my shoulder as she whispers in my ear I’m not screwing around.” And, if I have learned anything in life, it is that if you ignore the universe’s whisper to smarten up, she will try louder until you can no longer ignore her. 

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Support is everything! . And me and my girl love supported boat pose to set the…

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Support is everything! 🤍
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And me and my girl love supported boat pose to set the abs on fire. 🤩🔥
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Pic @vladraw.
At @vikasayoga#l
With @amandayogaflow .
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#yoga #yogadaily #yogafit #yogafam #yogini #igyogafam #yogaadict #yogaeverydamnday #calisthenics #meditate #yogapose #selflove #yogisofinstagram #yogaeveryday #yogagirl #motivation #inspiration #namaste #workout #yogalife #yogi #gratitude #abs #fitfam #acro



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On a Nude Beach With My Parents, Baring Almost All

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As the day progressed, the bucking in my chest subsided. Idle conversation, ocean dips that soaked my parents’ shorts, a shared taboo experience — it fostered a closeness, warmed by their willingness to push boundaries, for a time, at least. Until Tarzan strutted in our direction, his large endowment at half-mast. My mother glanced up from her book as his fluffed genitals passed at eye level, less than two feet away.

She examined her nails.

“Mom? Time to go?”

“The sun,” she nodded, her voice strained. “The sun is too hot.”

That evening at dinner, our relationship shifted. We were comrades cloistered in a booth, emboldened by inhibition-free nudists. Laughter loosened us — Who brings a goat? Does he always strut? We hadn’t freed our undercarriages to the ocean breeze, but Little Beach had stripped a layer of emotional clothing, enough for me to reveal a painful secret.

Chopsticks down, I choked out a confession about a failed relationship that ended in an early midlife crisis. I had achieved my dream of the perfect marriage — an affluent gay couple, two high-profile jobs, two homes, two swanky cars — only to find it an illusion, depressing, empty.

My father, the first to well up, pushed at fried tempura. My mother, shoulders compressed, placed her hand on mine.

Our shared experience opened a dialogue.

Our vacations became a ritual — Italy, London, Australia, Prague. Over time, I removed layers of exoskeleton, revealed more flaws of my soft-bodied underbelly and what it meant to be a gay man. In turn, they revealed what it meant to have a gay son, their hopes and fears, misunderstandings and shame. And eventually, their pride.

Just as I have now come to love the beauty in the chipped edges of my mother’s shells, I came to see my imperfect self through my parents’ eyes and to know that I am a keeper. That I am enough.

Matt Knight is a San Francisco-based writer and intellectual property lawyer at work on two novels.



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What is this all about? // Prioritize Natural Wellness

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Hey, I’m Jordan, a twenty something year old trying to merge the communication of online media with my brick and mortar wellness office. I’ve learned a lot through owning my own gym, coaching CrossFit for 5+ years and finishing a 750 hour massage therapy program, and I’m continuing to learn more every day. I’d like to share the adventure in the hopes that it can help somebody else along the way.

What are your initial feelings when someone says health and wellness? What does that mean for you? (Leave a comment down below with your thoughts!)

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All the things:

BLOG: www.prioritizenwellness.com
TWITTER: @prioritizenwell
INSTAGRAM: @prioritizenwellness
FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/prioritizenwellness

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Disclaimer: All the thoughts and opinions found on this channel are simply ideas and perspectives for you to consider. Always consult your doctor before changing your health and fitness regime.

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