I used to think a midlife career crisis was about needing a new resume or feeling uninspired in your job. That’s what the articles say, right? “Pivot to your passion,” “reinvent yourself,” “try a side hustle.” But when my publishing career collapsed, it didn’t feel like a pivot. It felt like I lost who I was.
I spent years building my business as a publisher, creating bestselling books, and leading a team I loved. My career wasn’t just work – it was my identity, my proof that I mattered, and my armor against feeling like I’d failed at everything else. So when Google algorithm changes, AI disruption, and a rapidly shifting market wiped out everything I’d built, it tipped me into something far beyond a midlife career crisis.
It tipped me into an existential crisis.
When Your Work Is Your Worth
The New York Times recently wrote about how Gen X creatives are finding it harder than ever to stay visible and paid in a world dominated by influencer marketing, algorithms, and hustle culture. It’s not just about being adaptable. As the article says, many midlife creatives feel like they’re aging out of the careers they worked decades to build.
“It is incredibly disorienting to be told, at midlife, that your entire skill set is now worth less than an Instagram Reel.”
Losing my publishing business didn’t just hurt my finances or career goals. It stripped me bare. Without my business, I didn’t know who I was anymore. Who was I without the accolades, the book sales rank, the steady stream of creative output, and worst of all, the steady income? Who was I without my work as my worth?
Healing a Visibility Wound
I did what I’ve always done when life broke me open – I got help. This time, it wasn’t just therapy. I hired a trauma-informed coach who helped me realize that losing my business forced me to confront a wound I’d been carrying since childhood: the fear of being truly seen.
Visibility had always terrified me. In publishing, I could hide behind books and brand logos. Coaching, on the other hand, demanded I show up as myself. For decades, I’d felt the pull to become a coach. Friends and colleagues told me I’d be amazing at it. But every time I thought about it, my stomach clenched with fear. Who was I to help others? Who would even listen to me?
With my coach, I unpacked these beliefs. I saw how deeply my fear of visibility was tied to old survival patterns – pleasing others, performing perfection, never letting anyone see me stumble. Most of all, in an age of online bullying, I didn’t know how I could put myself out there in a world that hates gay people. Slowly, though, I began to heal.
Your Midlife Career Crisis Blocks Might Be Different Than Mine
Maybe your career crisis isn’t about visibility. Maybe it’s about pricing and self-worth. Maybe it’s about imposter syndrome, burnout, fear of failure, or the crushing weight of people-pleasing that makes everyone else’s needs more important than your own dreams.
Here are a few common blocks I see in my coaching clients:
- Feeling trapped by financial fear, believing you can’t afford to pivot
- Overthinking every option and spiraling into freeze mode
- Thinking you “should” be able to figure it out yourself and feeling ashamed that you can’t
- Believing you’re too old to start over, even though something inside you is screaming for change
Whatever your block is, know this: it’s not a character flaw. It’s a survival strategy that once kept you safe.
What Helped Me Move Forward
I didn’t “positive mindset” my way into this new chapter. I worked with a therapist to grieve what I’d lost in the past and a coach to reimagine what was possible in the future. When I finally let myself imagine coaching as a career – not just an idea – it felt like coming home. Healing my visibility wound didn’t just make me a coach. It made me whole in a way I’d never been before.
If you’re tired of trying to figure it out alone, and you’re ready to unfreeze and build a business or career that feels like you, I’d be honored to walk beside you.
Let’s find a better way – together. If you need support as you reimagine what is possible, I’m right here for you.
