Mid-life Crisis, Estrogen Imbalances,        

and On-line Dating

“Midlife crisis” is a term first coined by someone named Elliott Jaques. He was referring to a critical phase in human development during the forties to early sixties, based on the character of change points, or periods of transition. The period is said to vary among individuals and between men and women. For years, middle-age meltdown has been viewed as an exclusively male phenomenon, involving sports cars, affairs and ill-advised fashion choices – but the reality is not that limited to men.

I think. . . no, I know. . . I am in the middle of my own midlife crisis now. Actually, I don’t think of it as a crisis, but a mid-life quest for identity.  And since I don’t think I’ll live to be 120, I’m not really the middle of my life at age 62. . . but I’ll stick with that “mid-life” misnomer.

I suspect that for most of us women, a mid-life crisis isn't just about recovering lost youth. . . although that’s a part of it, for sure.  It's about discovering the application of our greatness. The problem is that no one has defined what "greatness" looks like, so the quest has no specific destination.  Having the goal of "being great" is as hard to define as it is to achieve. There is always "the next great thing" to master, which may leave women feeling incomplete. On top of that, there are issues of broken plans about the future. . .the kind that come with the loss of the person who was supposed to share that future. . . and transitioning to a new life alone. . . and I think ALL of this is the complex foundation for a woman’s mid-life crisis.

Personally, I have additional issues feeding my own mid-life crisis. I have a new health issue, a thickening endometrium (uterus lining) due to excessive estrogen. The resulting hormonal imbalance seems to be leading the charge in my own personal “quest for identity.”  Along with that, is the fear related to the potential for uterine cancer that comes with this condition. Fear, anxiety, anger, sweatiness, insomnia, and mild mania are said to be symptoms experienced by women in mid-life crisis.  When I read that online, I knew for sure.  Yep. . . that explains what’s happening to me.  But as with everything in my life, it’s the complexities of my unique situation that keep it from perfectly fitting any official definition.   

I retired in April, and moved 3,000 miles away from my familiar environment and my friends. Feeling the need to make new friends, and maybe a new life companion too, I decided to join the world of online dating. Talk about having to figure out who you are. . . while selling yourself to strange men online. . . that whole “quest for identity” part of the crisis is front and center.

Thoughout my 30’s, 40’s and 50’s I was focused on three things; raising my children, advancing in my career as a leader, giving back to my community.   And I excelled in those areas. I was not interested in becoming more attractive to men or in paying attention to my own sensuality.  But now, at age 62, those had to become my new goals.  I knew men would find me kind, caring, intelligent, and witty. But would they find me alluring?  

Thirty-five years ago I met my husband via online dating . . . about a decade before such a thing existed.  We put our ads in a “Men/Women Wanted” section of a local newspaper. Or in my case, the “San Diego Singles” magazine.  I was allowed ONE photo and about 200 characters to sell myself, while competing with hundreds of other women. . . whose ads I could see.  I had such a fun time dating, back then.  I posted a cute photo, a creative and witty bio. . . and I went on lots of dates.  I had absolutely no doubt in my ability to attract or seduce a man back then.  I knew I was hot, if not beautiful. And I was just intelligent enough to engage in witty banter and flirting. I was dating a different guy every night, following all the “blind dating rules” to ensure I was safe.

Doing all that in the computer age totally changes the game.  We live in the age of professional profile writers, selfies and tools that allow us to project whatever image we want. And if you want, you can text with each potential date . . . even sexting is possible. . . and get to know him in that way, without ever meeting him face to face.

My first month dating on-line would have probably not been the roller coaster ride it’s been, were It not for the raging hormones and misguided focus on what I believed to be my weakness. . . my sexuality.  I was as emotional as a teenager.

I had several second and third dates, so I got to know three or four of the men quite well.  Not in THAT way, though.  Several factors kept me from going there. First was my fear of being seen as “too easy.”  The second was the fact this damn endometrium disorder gave me constant vaginal bleeding.  So, after several dinner and concert dates, I spent hours on the phone, talking to these men.  I was flirting like crazy. I’d flirt across the dinner table, with just the right amount of physical contact. It was fun. . .until it got crazy.

One of my new “boyfriends” was really moving fast.  He was talking about us moving in together and becoming part of each others’ families, before he’d even met me in person. And after he finally did meet me, he was even more exited.  I got so caught up in all the hormonal excitement, that I didn’t even think logically about what was happening. Before I knew it, I was buying into the fantasy too.…never even taking time to assess how I felt about this guy being “the one.” I was only thinking about how much he wanted me, and how good that felt. Oh, I thought I knew him better than anyone (and vice versa), given we’d spent 2 weeks talking on the phone every minute we could.  We told each other things we’d never shared about our former marriages. We cried, we laughed, and I trusted him to never hurt me.

But alas, we didn’t really know each other.  He thought his family would welcome me and trust his ability to fall in love in just two weeks.  Of course, they didn’t. How could they? And their reaction caused him to be very confused.  He didn’t know what to think or do.  So he did what made sense and felt safe.  He dropped me like a hot potato. He didn’t even tell me either.  I only knew he hadn’t called me in 6 hours, which was completely unusual.   And when I tried to reach him another 6 hours later, he said he was dealing with a certain medical emergency.…one I was very familiar with, having seen my husband combat it . . . so I was worried about him. Did he have anyone to care for him? What could I do? I didn’t even know where he lived, exactly.  For the next 12 hours, I was crying like an emotional teenage, thanks to my fluctuating hormones. I was so worried that I was going to lose another man, like I had lost my husband.  I decided to leave him alone, to let him rest and heal.  I considered the stress of our “relationship” might have caused this emergency, and I didn’t want to make him worse. But then, when I did finally try to check in with him. . . he didn’t answer.  Something about it felt so wrong.  It didn’t take me long to realize this was his way of breaking up.  My fears were confirmed when I realized he had blocked me as his Facebook friend. Talk about a kick in the stomach.  I was crushed.

This was the beginning of my mid-life-crisis “breakdown.”  After spending a day crying and listening to sad tunes, I decided I had to get myself out of the house and distracted.  When one of my other new “boyfriends” called, we talked on the phone for 24 hours.  I told him all about the other guy, and how I was feeling.  He already knew about the estrogen imbalance, and he wanted to help. So he agreed to keep me distracted and NOT allow any sexy flirting to happen.  It was almost impossible, but we did it.  In fact, he did a great job of showing genuine concern for me. He was a true gentleman.

As I talked to him, my phone was buzzing with other personal business and men asking for dates.  Soon, I found myself multi-tasking at the speed of lightening.  I was holding three or four conversations via texting and phone . . . and even one in person at the same time.  The ability to manage it all was exciting. At first, I hadn’t even noticed that my behavior was becoming more and more manic. My brain was racing a mile a minute, so that’s how I was talking now.  The phone conversation with the “boyfriend” had become very one-sided, with him just affirming my wild rants about whatever it was I was blabbering about. This was all happening away from home, as I had gotten caught in a downpour while walking the dogs and talking on the phone.  I was waiting out the rain in a covered outdoor café.  When the rain stopped, I walked the dogs home.  By the time I got home, I was really tired, so I ended the phone call and took a nap. 

As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered if I was going crazy.  I knew this feeling of euphoric, fast-passed madness was not normal. About 4 hours later, the “boyfriend” called to see if I was okay.  I realized the bi-polar symptoms had ended, almost as quickly as they came on.  I told him I was fine, that I was going to take a hot bubble bath and watch a movie.  I hadn’t watched TV or done anything else, except flirt with guys, in days.  I was almost beginning to feel normal again. 

I started to assess what had just happened. I never once blamed "The One" for dumping me. . . not even for not being able to tell me.  I imagined him being hurt and confused.  I may be wrong. . . and I’ll never know for sure. . . but that’s what I choose to believe. Instead, I had to look at how my actions. . . and I had to own up to my own guilt in misleading and confusing the guys I was dating.

I had lost track of who I was.  I was only focused on the part of me I was so insecure about, and I forgot to value myself for all the rest of who I was. I had lost track of my inner beauty and was unable to trust it as something attractive.  Since then, I read someone to say mid-life crisis’ happen when someone forgets to keep a balance of the things they value. 

Before my “breakdown” made me face what a problem this was, I wouldn’t listen to well-meaning friends who tried to get me to appreciate what made me beautiful. They would try to remind me of the bounty of good things I had to offer.  In fact, I found myself frustrated that they thought their words would actually help.  I already knew I was good in those areas.  I needed to feel attractive again. . . not smart or talented or whatever.  I call that manic-filled day that followed a sudden breakup, my wake up call.  The Universe had to slap my face, to get my attention . . . and remind me who I am.

I shared this cathartic thought with my Facebook friends, vowing to stop using the airbrushing, and to live more authentically.  I put my online dating profile on pause, and I removed all the airbrushed photos I could find. I knew posting my vulnerability on my Facebook page was risky, but my friends reacted with just the kind of support and love I needed.   I got calls from old boyfriends and texts from girlfriends.  I even got support and reassurance from a couple of the new men I’d met online who had become new Facebook friends. They all reassured me that they thought I was beautiful without the airbrushing.  They reminded me to trust my inner beauty and to not lose track of all the things that made me, me. . . my art. . . my writing . . . my dogs . . . . my family . . . . my work as a Widow Coach.  The coaching is what leads me to put this all in this blog.  After losing a spouse, one will eventually think about dating again.  They will struggle, and question everything.  If any of my experience can help a fellow human realize they’re not alone . . .I’ll be happy.

I still have fears, especially related to the potential uterine cancer scare I’m living with.  I will undergo surgery at the end of July, and should have answers in August.  But the love I have felt from the people who care about me, has put me back in my comfort zone and surrounded me with warmth and security again.  I know there is nothing ahead of me that I cannot get through.  I am not alone.  I don’t need to date a bunch of strange men.  I have plenty of people who love me.  And now that I’m over all that, I find myself free to act like myself.  

I had the most wonderful unplanned afternoon/evening with a man recently.  It was an authentic, warm, fun and exciting experience. . . to let someone get to know me as I really am, and to feel appreciated . . .with zero manipulation involved.  I hope these hormone surges have settled down for good now. But even if they haven’t, I think I can handle it better now.  I have always been a fast learner.  Thank goodness.