Finding Ourselves Again: Nostalgia, Friendship, and the Shifting Sense of Self in Midlife
I came across a photo of myself recently — taken around age 21. In it, I’m mid-dynamic movement, caught acting something out while playing a game. My face is open, mischievous, and youthful I look completely absorbed, present and alive in a way that is familiar and near and yet so far.
These days, I still feel flickers of that same presence, but it takes a little more intention to find it. Time, age, loss, and responsibility have changed how I experience myself. My laughter has depth now — layered with grief and gratitude, joy and exhaustion. The essence of me is still there, but I meet it differently.
That aged photo became a mirror — not just for how I’ve changed, but for how I understand myself in relationship to others. It pulled me into reflection about identity, growth, and the evolving shape of friendships and relationships — especially in midlife.
How Friendship Changes (and So Do We): In our younger years, friendship can feel effortless. There’s proximity, constant connection, and a kind of natural enmeshment that makes it easy to feel seen. We often didn’t even realize in those moments how deeply seen and held we felt—it was simply woven into the nature of being young.
As we move through adulthood, life expands — jobs, kids, caregiving, partnerships, schedules. Our worlds grow, but our bandwidth shrinks. What once felt natural starts to require effort. And that’s okay, it’s part of growth, expansion and aging.
Yet the longing for connection doesn’t fade, if anything, it intensifies. We crave closeness, understanding, and the kind of relationships where we don’t have to perform or prove our worth (this resonates with over-functioning!). The ones where we can admit, “I’m fine — but I’m also not,” and be met with laughter and compassion. It’s tender work — realizing that friendship in midlife often looks different, but the need for belonging hasn’t gone anywhere.
The Questions Women Bring Into Therapy: So many women I sit with — especially in their forties and fifties — quietly bring up friendship and belonging. They’ll say things like: “Why do I still care if people like me?”
“Why does it still hurt to feel left out?” “Why do I feel like I’m too much and not enough at the same time?” The asking carries a trace of shame, born from how seldom we name this need (the belonging). My response is usually some version of: Because you’re human and wired for connection. And because this is real. We don’t outgrow those feelings — we just learn how to hide them better or we have life distractions from them. But they still live in the nervous system.
Clinically, what I often see is that midlife brings a kind of identity reorganization. The structures that once held us — our roles, routines, and relationships — start to shift. The caretaker, the overfunctioner, the reliable friend, the one who smooths everything over — those roles that once served us can start to feel heavy. It’s not regression; it’s your inner voice saying, “You’ve outgrown this version of yourself.” Add in hormonal changes, stress, grief, and the constant emotional labor of daily life — and of course it feels disorienting. Midlife can feel like emotional puberty: tender, confusing, full of questions about who we are and where we fit.
When Nostalgia Meets Growth: That nostalgic photo made me pause and really look at who I was then and who I am now. The younger me who laughed without self-consciousness was also less confident in myself. And that knowing myself goes a long way now. It helps me lean into myself in the context of others.
I don’t want to go back in time. But I do want to stay connected to what she knew instinctively — that joy, imperfection and deep connection aren’t things to earn. They’re things to remember.
Sometimes nostalgia is less about longing for the past and more about trying to remember parts of ourselves we’ve set down along the way. I like this idea, it deeply resonates with my current life place.
The Midlife Reorientation: Midlife shakes us — not always in crisis, but in clarity.
It asks us to reexamine who we are beneath all the doing (the constant doing). That’s why this stage can feel so raw and, at times, dysregulating. We’re grieving and growing at once — letting go of what no longer fits while trying to make sense of who we’re becoming.
Therapy can be a grounding space in this reorientation.
It’s not about fixing — it’s about integrating. It’s about understanding why the shifts feel so tender, naming what you’re losing and what you’re reclaiming, and finding steadiness as you reintroduce yourself to yourself.
A Reflection: If you’ve been feeling nostalgic, unsettled, or like you’re standing on shifting ground you have been in a phase of transformation. Midlife is less a crisis and more an invitation. It’s a remembering, a deepening and a gentle return to yourself. Take a moment to look back — maybe even at an old photo. Ask: What part of me do I want to bring forward again? Who helps me feel most like myself? And in this work, remember—you still carry the parts of your younger self, only now they’re held within the depth of all you’ve lived and learned.
I’m Jolene, a 47 year old mama in mid-life trying to work on myself, my family and my craft. This blog post is particularly meaningful to me because I feel most like myself (my whole self) when I am able to work with others on these mid-life issues. If this resonates, reach out and let’s chat!
