A midlife story about permission, delay, and leaving anyway

For most of my life, I chose myself last.

I had three kids who were respectful and good students. I had friends, a house, and a good-paying job. The cost: long days of work followed by carpools, friendships and romantic relationships that ended, and saying no to trips with friends and yes to nowhere U.S.A.

But somewhere amidst divorce, school-aged children becoming independent, and a job that didn’t fit anymore, I started to feel that I was a different person. It took me longer to accept that I was.

It’s been two years since I first sat in Terminal Five at O’Hare Airport. Here I am again heading to Southeast Asia, and as I look back at my passport, I’m taken back to 2023. It was a milestone year. Sixty thousand miles, jungles and mountains. A fiftieth birthday. And I ended a relationship. I couldn’t see the change in myself when it was happening.

March 2023

I had started a new job the year before. And for the first time, I was having difficulty settling into the position. Rather than immersing myself in the new work, I was scrolling LinkedIn and Indeed for new job opportunities. I left my computer at the office and uninstalled Outlook on my phone, so when I went home for the day, I was unreachable. One day, my boss texted me, “Where are you?” I replied, “Personal time.” And then I put my phone on silent. A stark contrast to ten months prior, when I answered messages as the nerve block wore off after shoulder surgery.

I was also having trouble emotionally committing to the relationship I was in. Jeremy and I had been dating for six months. His resume—a good job, he was kind, I was attracted to him—suggested that we had long-term potential. But whenever someone asked about us, I resisted calling him my boyfriend. When I talked about him with my friends or family, I simply referred to him as “the South African.” To my colleagues, I introduced him as, “This is my guy friend, Jeremy.” Between him and me, we never talked about it.

Late one night early in the month, I was randomly scrolling Google and Expedia. Before I knew what I was doing, I booked a flight for the winter break. The next day I started a new tab on my travel calendar: SE Asia. It had just one entry—American Airlines 8404, December 26, 2023. I waited three days to tell Jeremy I booked the flight. I thought nothing of it. He thought a lot of it.

July 2023

It was my 50th birthday, and we celebrated in Croatia. Jeremy and I. We walked the old castle, took silly pictures and made memories. But sometimes, I would find myself tuning him out, annoyed at yet another correction of something I said or did. Other times, I would scan the crowd, looking for respite from his company.

As the end of the trip approached, we took an overnight train to Rome. Squeezed into a small compartment were bunk beds with a tiny sink, and barely enough room for our bags. The curtains, so thin they couldn’t shield the lights that flew past in the nighttime. The stifling August air and the small beds, a perfect excuse to maintain distance between our bodies. I hadn’t shared with him why I preferred our sleeping arrangements so I could hear his hrmphs and grumbles as I lay on the lower bunk. What should have been a fun night was two people sleeping in separate beds. Arriving in Rome, we headed to our respective terminals, barely a touch between us.

September 2023

Since my return from my 50th birthday trip, the relationship with Jeremy had been hanging on by a thread. I made excuses to not hang out. I picked small fights. I started making plans on my own. After the Labor Day parade, sitting on his couch, I told him we wanted different things. So, I broke up with him. Two hours later, I was home.

December 2023

I was headed to Southeast Asia—Thailand and Vietnam. Places that I had to look at a map to know where they were. I didn’t ask permission to go. At home, I didn’t ask the kids what they thought of me going for so long. I didn’t ask who would cook dinners, make lunches, or watch the dog. I left the Christmas decorations up, knowing they would still be there when I returned. I didn’t worry about the emails that went unanswered in my inbox or the meetings I RSVP’d no to. I didn’t check to be sure that the audit would be finished or that the new employee would be trained. I shrugged my shoulders through all the questions and turned on my out-of-office message.

Checking in at the airport, I asked the desk agent, “Are there any upgrades available?” Later, I turned on the Wi-Fi in Terminal Five and downloaded content as if I were going to be housebound during a blizzard. My flight boarded, and it was only once we were in the air that I noticed I hadn’t told anyone, see ya later.

Back in the airport, I started to realize how much I had changed since 2023. I didn’t recognize myself anymore. Now, I didn’t panic when I couldn’t find my ride. I was confident in not having a partner. And for the first time, I could see the life I’d been living in 2023 no longer fit

The gate agent called my zone. She scanned my boarding pass, and as I boarded the flight, I took one last look at my messages and silently said, see ya later.