For the Love of GenX: The Mid-Life Awakening

The other day I celebrated my 51st birthday.

On Monday February 7, 1972, at 9:40 a.m. I burst onto this Earthly scene, weighing in at 7 pounds 8.5 ounces and measuring 20 inches long.

Since that cold February in rural Nebraska day, I’ve grown 45 more inches and gained 131.5 more pounds.

I’ve had one broken arm.

My favorite book (which I had memorized by the time I was 2) was Bambi Gets Lost.

I grew up in a conservative family and town, isolated from the diversity of the rest of the world.

I lived my first 12 years in a trailer down by the Platte River . . .

where I played in the trees, water, and sand . . . letting my imagination run wild.

I lived the rest of my teenage years in a house on a dirt road across from a corn field . . .

where I played in the corn rows during the summer and was pulled behind my dad’s jeep in the winter on a sled through the barren, snowy field.

I spent my childhood riding my bike across town with my best friend to go to Fun ‘n Food to play video games.

I remember every generation of video gaming systems going all the way to Atari . . .

and how Pong could provide hours of entertainment.

I loved (and still do love) baseball.

I played softball as a badass first baseman (with a baseball Smurf attached to my belt loop) and my nickname “Mike” on the back of my shirt.

I took baton lessons for 6 years in elementary school (and have a lot of bad photos in leotards with fringe to prove it).

I had more hair perms than I care to remember.

I remember when MTV burst into the world . . .

when Purple Rain came out (and watching it every time it came on t.v.).

when The Outsiders came out (and watching it every time it came on t.v. too) . . .

when the video for “I want my MTV” by Dire Straits set new standards for music videos . . .

and when the video for Thriller by Michael Jackson came out and changed those standards again - forever.

I remember my mom taking me to R-rated horror movies when I was a kid, and explaining to me how it was all fake.

I remember being terrified of nuclear war with Russia during the Cold War (thanks to the movie The Day After) . . .

of being invaded by China (thanks to Red Dawn) . . .

and of vampires (thanks to Salem’s Lot).

I remember when Saturday Night Live was actually funny . . .

and watching Eddie Murphy in every skit, comedy show, and movie that I could.

I remember watching the Love Boat and Fantasy Island on Friday nights . . .

and what a treat it was when the people from the Love Boat went to Fantasy Island in back-to-back episodes.

I remember when the Cosby Show, A Different World, Martin, and Living Single all came out, and being acutely aware of how white my rural Nebraska town and experiences were.

I remember that the Fresh Prince of Bel Air was the most exciting and funny show I’d ever seen.

I remember crying during the series finale of M.A.S.H. (my favorite show).

I remember crying during an episode of Eight is Enough when Nicholas ran away from home with a wagon, and then left the wagon alone somewhere when he decided to go back home.

I remember Happy Days . . .

and Laverne and Shirley . . .

and when the Fonz jumped the shark.

I remember wishing I could date both Starsky and Hutch . . .

and then Magnum P.I.

I remember watching Orca the Killer Whale and then begging my mom to let me have a baby Orca that I could keep in the river behind our house.

I remember the Smurfs, Cabbage Patch dolls, and Strawberry Shortcake dolls (which I still have in a box in the basement).

I remember dancing in my trailer house to the soundtrack from Grease on 8-track . . .

I remember the big, tri-fold album cover from the Bee Gees Greatest Hits and listening to it non-stop.

I remember listening to Casey Kasum’s Top 40 every weekend . . .

and making mix-tapes for my friends and boyfriends.

I remember VHS tapes . . . and recording shows on VCRs.

I remember when CDs and DVDs came out.

I remember hearing Pearl Jam and Nirvana for the first time . . .

and when Run-D.M.C. started playing on the radio . . .

and when the movie Breakin’ came out (and how my uncoordinated whiteness couldn’t do any of those moves).

I remember when the internet and email “arrived” . . .

and the sound of dial-up . . .

I remember that my first computer was the size of a tiny house and used “floppy disks” the size of a small plate.

I remember the days before everyone had a laptop and you would be labeled as a “dork” for bringing your laptop into law school class.

I remember when mass school shootings first started happening.

I was the first person in my family to go to college . . .

and first person to go to law school . . .

and first person to go to a graduate program . . .

and first person to move away from home across the country.

I was sexually assaulted as a senior in high school.

My parents divorced the spring semester of my senior year in high school.

I had a DUI (Driving Under the Influence) and three MIP’s (Minor in Possession of alcohol) my senior year of high school and freshman year of college. (I also spent one day and then three days in jail for two of the MIPs).

I drank my way through college.

I survived thyroid cancer in law school.

I’ve lived in 5 different cities.

I was 1.5 miles from the Pentagon on 911.

I’ve run 2 marathons, a 50k, 3 Ironman triathlons, and countless other triathlons.

I’ve climbed 15 Colorado 14’ers (14,000-foot mountains) and Mt. Rainier.

I became a lawyer.

I worked for the nation’s largest law firm - the U.S. Department of Justice.

I quit being a lawyer.

I became an entrepreneur and started my own business.

I’ve had 3 of my own dogs as an adult.

I’ve lost great-grandparents, all of my grandparents, and my mom.

I’ve had friends die.

I’ve stayed friends with people I’ve known since elementary school.

I’ve made numerous friends across the country and across all walks of life.

I’ve been in numerous, unsuccessful relationships with men.

I’m currently single and a dog mom to Winnie.

I’ve traveled to all 50 states.

I used to believe in the death penalty – but no longer.

I used to think that if you lived in this country, you should speak English – but no longer.

I used to think that I wasn’t racist because “I didn’t see color” – but no longer.

I now believe in the inherent worth of every human being, from every walk of life.

I believe that no lives truly matter until Black lives matter.

I now acknowledge that I live on unceded land from the Arapahoe, Cheyenne, Ute, and Očhéthi Šakówiŋ indigenous tribes in what is now known as Thornton, Colorado.

I now know that I have racism, privilege, patriarchy, imperialism, capitalism, and white body supremacy baked into my system because of growing up in America as a white woman of European descent.

And I know that every day for the rest of my life, will require effort and intention to unwind those systems of oppression of which I have been a part.

That basically sums up the first 51 years of my life.

I am smack dab in the middle of mid-life, according to the generally-accepted definition of “mid-life.”

Midlife is considered between 40 and 60 (although is anything above 50 really in the middle, because that seems to imply you’d live to be 100 or more?).

I am one of approximately 65 million Americans–19% of the U.S. population–who are considered to be “Generation X.”

The “forgotten generation” sandwiched in between the more talked about Baby Boomers and Millennials/Gen Y.

The Generation that, as of 2023, represents the smallest U.S. population (other than children born after 2012) behind Millennials (largest) and Baby Boomers (second largest).

Although I’m not really fan of “labels,” and I appreciate that generalized “labels” don’t often account for people’s individualized experiences,

I believe that there can be profound utility in understanding the general timeframe in which we grew up . . . the cultural, societal, and political influences on our lives during our formative years.

So, whether you resonate with the label of a particular “generation” or even resonate with the term “GenX” itself, it can be useful (if not at least entertaining) to look at how you were influenced not only by where you grew up, but when you grew up.

Generation X is a term that caught on after the publication of Douglas Couplands’ novel, Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture in 1991, although Coupland didn’t invent the term. (There’s a debate about whether he took the term from a 1950’s photo essay by Robert Capa, or from the name of Billy Idol’s band, Generation X).

Generation X is the generation who saw more mothers returning to the workforce.

The Generation of latchkey kids who spent a lot of time home alone while their Baby Boomer parents worked.

The Generation who also saw the divorce rates of their parents skyrocket.

The Generation who played freely and wildly outside (depending on where you lived) . . .

and could come up with ways to entertain themselves for hours on end with our vivid imaginations.

The Generation who remembers the very real threat of nuclear annihilation . . .

who was raised to be independent and self-sufficient . . .

who grew up on video games, three major t.v. channels, the advent of cable news, and MTV.

The Generation who took the Baby Boomer invention of the “internet” and made it what it is today . . .

the innovators who have started million and billion dollar companies . . .

and the Generation who (even if they work a 9 to 5 job) have an entrepreneurial, creative, DIY spirit.

The Generation who saw their Baby Boomer parents working so hard to support the family, that we crave more work/life balance for ourselves.

The Generation who is practical, flexible, and efficient . . .

who generally prefer a more relaxed style (we did grow up on Doc Martens and baggy pants and shirts).

The Generation who grew up watching the beating of Rodney King,

the fall of the Berlin wall . . .

the Space Shuttle Challenger explode . . .

Watergate unfold . . .

the start of the environmental movement with the meltdown at Three Mile Island . . .

the Exxon Valdez Spill in Alaska . . .

the Iranian hostage crisis . . .

and the launch of Operation Desert Storm.

What intrigues me the most, however, out of all of this, is that GenX’ers make up the bulk of people who are in midlife right now.

GenX is currently synonymous with mid-life.

The youngest GenX’ers are 43.

The oldest are 58.

And although GenX as a whole shares the bulk of the mid-life label right now, I acknowledge that there is a noticeable difference between the GenX’ers at the later stages of mid-life (early to late-50’s) and those at the beginning stages of mid-life (early to mid-40’s).

Specifically, there’s a 15-year difference between the youngest and oldest GenX’ers. That’s the difference between being roughly 15 years old versus being barely out of the womb when personal computers first became popular in the 1980’s. In other words, a GenX’er born in 1965 remembers the world before the personal computer. A GenX’er born in 1980 does not. Yet, both are lumped under the label of “GenX.”

So, although the label of any generation has some limited utility, I believe there is far more potential for awareness and understanding when we reflect on the influence of the general timeframe in which we grew up or largely grew up.

And, of course, the influence of that general timeframe is further impacted by the specific culture, economic class, and area of the country in which you grew up . . .

and by the racialized, genderized, and privileged groups in which you belong.

Bottom line: I acknowledge that the label of GenX both fits and doesn’t fit any one person. It’s like a horoscope: some of it will be freakishly true, other parts of it will be completely off-base.

So . . . my invitation is to take what lands, and leave the rest.

I find it synchronistic that as I rounded out my 50th year on this planet, I started feeling a pull away from working exclusively with lawyers . . .

and toward something else.

That “something else” turned out to be an invitation to return back to what I know best . . .

My generation.

My GenX.

As GenX’ers navigate mid-life, it’s common to feel like something wants to shift . . .

change . . .

give way to something else.

As GenX approaches and navigates mid-life, it makes complete sense to feel a pull to up-end or question or shake-up the life that you’ve spent the rest of your adulthood trying to build.

I believe this is the reason for the very distasteful and uninformed phrase “mid-life crisis.”

Yuck . . . let’s get rid of that phrase, shall we?

Mid-life isn’t a “crisis” . . . it’s an awakening.

If you are a GenX’er in mid-life, you’ve spent most of your adult life cultivating discipline . . .

learning skills . . .

trying to play by most of “the rules” - whether those are familial, cultural, societal, professional, or religious “rules.”

You’ve spent the first part of your life fine-tuning your ego . . . and I don’t mean the obnoxious or arrogant ego (although that’s part of it).

I mean the ego that is your identity . . . the WHO that you believe yourself to be.

And to become the WHO that you’ve become, there were certain traits, qualities, behaviors, desires, passions, beliefs, thoughts, emotions that you had to suppress . . .

deny . . .

or hide away from society, your family, your culture, your religion, and yourself.

There was an incalculable amount of conditioning that went into you becoming the WHO that you believe yourself to be.

But, by the time you’re entering mid-life, this conditioning - from a developmental standpoint - is largely complete.

And the life you’ve built - the career, the family, friends, hobbies, etc. - can start to feel like they’ve all worn out their welcome.

Life can start to feel stale.

But that does not mean you are in crisis . . . no.

You’re right where you’re supposed to be.

GenX is in an awakening.

After spending your life checking all the boxes and doing what you were “supposed to do,”

your spirit . . . your soul . . . is finally saying that it’s time to wake up!

And this is where the beautiful qualities of being raised as a GenX’er can help you.

Throughout February, we’re going to explore how GenX’ers can love mid-life . . .

love the wonderful lessons and strengths that growing up as GenX gave us . . .

and love your way back to the independence, creativity, and spirit of adventure that are the hallmarks of this Generation.

So join me every week in February for the series: For the Love of GenX.

In the meantime, I’m curious . . . what are some of your memories, standout moments, or reflections as a GenX’er? Please share them in the comments below.