Apparently, I’m 40

My Mid-Life Leadership Crisis

I turned 40 this year, and, if I’m honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
There was the inevitable questioning of where the last 40 years had gone, a few conversations with amused friends about whether 40 is officially “middle-aged”, and a growing appreciation for good skincare.

Alongside all that, I’ve noticed something shifting in how I view my leadership.

For a long time, I think I was trying to prove myself. Prove I could do it. Prove I was capable. Prove I had something to contribute and that I belonged in the room. (Just writing this feels vulnerable, but I don’t think I’m alone in feeling this way.)

When we’re younger, ambition can carry a lot of energy. We want opportunities. We want to be trusted. We want our ideas to be heard. And there is nothing wrong with that.
But I’ve noticed a new mindset emerging.

I don’t feel the same need to prove myself anymore. Not because I have become this emotionally healthy, middle-aged, wise woman with overpriced skincare, but because experience has done something to me.

I’ve made enough mistakes to know that I don’t need to have all the answers.
I’ve been around enough leadership tables to know that being the loudest voice doesn’t make you the wisest one.
I’ve watched enough things succeed and fail to know that very few decisions are as significant as they feel in the moment.
And I’ve lived enough life to realise that I don’t have to prove that I belong.
I do.

Perhaps that is one of the unexpected gifts of getting older.
You begin to realise that you are no longer the person trying to become the adult in the room, and that has changed how I lead.

I’ve stopped proving and started noticing.
When you’re busy proving yourself, you’re naturally focused on yourself.
How am I doing?
Was that good enough?
What opportunity is next?
What do I need to achieve?
But when you become more secure in who you are, you have more capacity to look around, and I’ve found myself noticing people differently.

I notice the person who reminds me of who I was ten or fifteen years ago.
The person with loads of potential but not quite the confidence yet.
The one with great ideas who hasn’t quite learned how to articulate them.
The person who is ready for more responsibility but is still waiting for someone to trust them with it.
And I find myself thinking less about what I can achieve and more about what I can help someone else achieve.

Perhaps that is one of the greatest shifts in leadership, whether it is coming up for you or you have experienced it yourself.
When you stop asking, “How do I get ahead?” and start asking, “Who can I help move forward?”

Your experience isn’t just for you to learn from.
What good is learning something if we never pass it on?
What is the point of making mistakes if the people coming behind us have to make the same ones?
What is the value of having spent years figuring something out if we keep it to ourselves?

There comes a point when experience becomes something you are responsible for giving away.
Not in a “let me tell you everything I know” kind of way.
But in a “I’ve been here before, maybe I can help” way.

Here are a few lines I’ve noticed myself saying more often this year:
“I’ve got you.”
“I’ve made that mistake too.”
“Here’s what I wish someone had told me.”
“Give it a go. I’ll be here if you need me.”
“I’m going to give you this opportunity.”
“You can do this better than I can.” (This one took a surprising amount of security!)

Since I’ve stopped trying to always be the person who solves every problem, I’ve found myself with more free time. That has allowed me to focus on the things that only I can do.

I’ve flourished in the spaces and places that are mine to fill. I’ve grown in skill, and I’ve made room to dream again. Who knew being so secure would lead to such personal growth? (That one’s a joke; we all have at least one book on the bookshelf that tells us this by the end of chapter one.)

I’ve found greater joy in helping others succeed and watching them find their own voice than I ever did when I was finding mine.

This mid-life freak-out has been the greatest gift and has led me into my healthiest leadership season yet.

I’m still ambitious.
I still have things I want to do.
There are still ideas I’d love to see become reality.
Turning 40 hasn’t taken that away, but it has changed what I want those things to mean and how I will approach bringing them to life.
I don’t just want to build something impressive.
I want to build people.

Maybe that’s what happens when you realise you are the adult in the room.
You stop wondering whether you belong there, and you start noticing who isn’t.

You start looking around and asking, “How can I best use my experience, influence and voice?” instead of focusing on how to grow them.

I am over my little wobble about turning 40 now.
Crossing into this age bracket has been one of the greatest gifts to my leadership.
And, just to wrap things up, my friends and I have decided that 40 is definitely not middle-aged.
You’ll have to ask me directly to find out what we decided it was.
It might surprise you!