Midlife reinvention – turning crisis into opportunity

Midlife is often framed as a period of decline rather than opportunity. A simple Google search reflects this bias: 'midlife crisis' yields over 10 million results, while 'midlife opportunity' returns fewer than 10,000. These cultural narratives shape how we approach midlife transitions, particularly for women, who face additional challenges in work and society. 

Social representations offer a lens to understand these narratives. French social psychologist Serge Moscovici described them as shared systems of meaning that influence how we see ourselves and others. For women in midlife, these representations include the 'Overwhelmed Caregiver,' balancing family obligations with little time for herself; the 'Cougar,' whose reinvention is framed through relationships with younger men; and the 'Invisible Woman,' perceived as having diminished value in the workplace. As I approached my 40s, it was this last representation that I felt most acutely. 

After more than 20 years in male-dominated industries - first in housing and construction, then in tech - I began to notice a shift in both how others saw me and how I saw myself. I felt like I no longer belonged. This change, which became especially apparent during the pandemic, reshaped my sense of identity and how I was seen in my professional world. Yet while these representations dominate our cultural imagination, they tell only part of the story. Midlife can also be a time of reinvention, a moment to break free from limiting narratives and create new opportunities. 

The catalyst for change 

In their 2008 book Happiness: Unlocking the Mysteries of Psychological Wealth, father and son team Ed Diener and Robert Biswas-Diener discuss three orientations of how people view their work: a job, a career or a calling. Throughout our twenties our focus is learning who we are and what we are good at, beyond the confines of education and the family we grew up with: at this stage, work may be 'just' a job. Our thirties bring attention to the skills we have developed and our work interests, and we may see our work as more of a career path. And then midlife enters, and between 20 years in employment and the perspective-shifting experiences that life throws at us (such as raising children, travelling, losing loved ones and more), many of us find a need for deeper meaning and purpose in our work. 

At this stage, many midlifers seem to face existential questions: what makes life meaningful? What legacy do I want to have? Who am I? Contribution and impact are common concerns. 

By our forties, many women have experienced systemic barriers in their careers, such as being overlooked for promotions, spoken over in meetings, or subtly excluded from leadership opportunities. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the tech industry, where both ageism and sexism shape workplace culture. Despite women comprising 50 per cent of the UK workforce, they make up only 24 per cent of the tech sector, and just 5 per cent in leadership roles. The 'tech bro' stereotype serves as a reminder of who belongs and who does not. 

By midlife, many women are no longer willing to tolerate these inequalities. One in three are considering leaving the industry altogether. For me, burnout was the breaking point. I could no longer justify sacrificing my health for an industry that was structurally resistant to change. It may not take a global pandemic for us to have this moment of reckoning, but it is hard to ignore that this black swan event created paradigm shifts for many. The loss of loved ones, jobs, social connection, routines and a sense of normalcy invited us to pause and rethink what is truly important in life. For many in the tech industry it turned out not to be working 60 plus hours in a company that demanded our always-on attention and availability, at the expense of our families and health. My personal experience with burnout was a catalyst for re-evaluating my priorities, and for seeing things more clearly, perhaps for the first time ever. Midlife may have started with a crisis, but I believed it did not have to end with one. 

The midlife 'opportunity' 

My own midlife transition began at 38. At last, I had run out of excuses to put off a goal I had always wanted to achieve: getting a degree. I chose to study BSc Psychology with the Open University, as it was a subject that always fascinated me. I was drawn to the OU's academic rigour and the flexibility of its well-established remote learning model, allowing me to balance study with my full-time job. I began studying as a way to achieve an educational goal, but over time it evolved into a broader life goal of transitioning my career to more meaningful and fulfilling work. 

In one particular module, DE200 Investigating Psychology 2, I encountered Tania Zittoun's work on transitions across the lifecourse, which deeply resonated with me. Zittoun suggests that ruptures in our lifecourse act as pivotal moments, triggering change and transitions. The pandemic was one such rupture: a profound disruption that forced many of us to reassess our lives, both socially and psychologically. Zittoun and colleagues argue that societies respond to ruptures by generating social knowledge - shared ways of understanding and navigating change - which help individuals find meaning in uncertain times. In many ways, my studies and career transition became my own way of making sense of this period of disruption. 

It was whilst studying this module that I forced myself to think beyond my degree: what was I going to do next? By this point I had also left full-time employment due to burnout, completed a coaching qualification, and started my own business offering coaching to women in the technology industry. I felt torn between embracing uncertainty to see what unfolded on this new path, and needing to have my next steps 'all figured out'. For someone used to structured career paths, stepping into the unknown felt both exhilarating and terrifying, freeing yet constraining. 

At this point, I allowed my imagination to run free. I used self-coaching to explore questions like 'if I could be anything I wanted, what would that be?' I knew it would be related to psychology, but I have many interests - hence my historical pursuit of more generalist roles! I gave myself space and permission to reflect without engaging my overly-analytical brain, simply to get creative and explore different options. As Zittoun describes in her research, imagination plays a key role in helping people to live alternative lives through identifying different options, reconsidering personal narratives and opening up imagined futures. One idea kept returning to me - an idea I repeatedly dismissed. Ever since childhood, I had been fascinated by space: not just as a physical frontier, but as a symbol of limitless human potential. Could I combine my love of space with my passion for psychology? A quick Google search confirmed that 'space psychologist' was a real profession. I felt excited at this possibility, even though I still needed to work out the details on how to get there (And still do!). 

I see this happen also in my coaching practice. A simple exercise I use to kickstart the creative process is ikigai, which is Japanese for life's purpose. This exercise asks four questions: what do you enjoy doing, what are you good at, what does the world need and what can you get paid for? One of my clients used this exercise as a prompt for rethinking the direction of the second half of her career. We continued this exploration in a coaching session, where I asked her to set aside her analytical thinking for a moment to focus instead on creatively generating as many options as possible. At first, her inner critic was jumping in as she caveated every option with 'this might sound crazy', or 'I don't think I can do this', but with encouragement she allowed herself to think more freely. It led her to a realisation about the kind of work that gives her meaning and purpose, and a clear and actionable strategy for moving towards that. 

Another client came to me following redundancy from a company she had worked with for 14 years. She was open to considering all her options and already engaged in further learning and building healthy habits such as going to the gym regularly. During our first session we reviewed her pre-coaching assessment to identify her core values and motivations. I noticed that she enjoyed travel and new experiences, so I asked her how she could bring more adventure back into her life? This created an 'aha moment' for her, as she reflected that it was indeed missing; within a few days she had booked a charity expedition to India. Her example, and my own experience, demonstrates that sometimes we need to look to our pasts to reimagine our futures. 

Redefining our self-concept 

For many of us, work is central to our identity. When we meet someone new, our job title often comes second only to our name. Our profession carries implicit signals about class, education, and status, which shapes how others perceive and relate to us. When I resigned from my job in 2023 due to burnout, I was not only stepping away from work but also from an identity I had built for decades. Without a title to call myself, I felt adrift. I had no other job to go to, I needed time to heal. Without my leadership role, I felt like I had lost a core part of who I was. The mental anguish was overwhelming as I no longer knew how to define myself. I was still a psychology student, but that did not feel like enough on its own. I felt ashamed and like I had somewhat failed at life. I struggled even to know what to call this period of recuperation and reflection. A friend suggested reframing it as a 'health sabbatical' and that felt acceptable: I was making a deliberate choice to take this time to prioritise myself, and this was a conscious but not permanent break with work. The intent was always to return when I felt better. 

As I recovered from burnout, I realised that this was an opportunity to not only think about what kind of work I wanted to do in the future, but also how I saw myself. On the long daily walks I took, I found myself asking: Who am I now? What do I want to do? Who do I want to become? Looking back, it feels almost self-indulgent, but in reality, it was a necessary step in intentionally reconstructing my identity. As part of this process I also lost touch with some people, many of whom I had worked with. Change often reshapes our relationships: some connections fade, while others deepen, revealing more about who we are becoming. I found myself becoming closer to others in my network who had previously been mere acquaintances. These friendships were important as they helped me rebuild a new sense of self and belonging. 

Even as I focused on recovery, the question of my next career move lingered constantly in my mind. I was beginning to see that returning to full-time employment meant risking the same cycle of hustle, stress, and burnout, and I wasn't willing to go down that path again. As I progressed through my degree, I began to wonder how I could integrate my newfound knowledge into a career that truly aligned with me. I kept asking myself: What kind of work would truly fulfill me? To find clarity, I turned to the ikigai exercise, a practice that ultimately led me to coaching women in tech. Embracing this new identity, both as a coach and a solopreneur, felt natural. It aligned deeply with one of my core values: growth. 

Lessons from my midlife career transition 

Midlife career transitions are a chance to realign work with personal values and priorities in order to find our 'calling'. They take time, resilience, and a strong support network. Financial realities cannot be ignored, and many midlifers must navigate this transition while managing mortgages, family responsibilities, or other commitments. This often requires sacrifices, whether that's retraining while working, temporarily adjusting lifestyle expectations, or taking a step back to move forward in our careers. Yet, for those willing to embrace the process, these transitions offer opportunities for personal and professional growth, as well as a renewed sense of purpose and contribution. 

But individuals cannot do this alone. Society has a role to play in making midlife career transitions more accessible. Workplace policies that support flexible working, lifelong learning, and career pivots can help retain experienced professionals in new capacities. Coaching and mentoring provide critical guidance for those unsure of their next steps, while community initiatives, such as Eleanor Mills' Queenagers and my own Liftoff community, offer spaces for connection and shared experiences. Most importantly, midlifers need to give themselves permission to take the time they need. Career reinvention does not happen overnight, and real transformation requires patience. The key is to embrace the long game, trust in the process, and build a network that uplifts and sustains you along the way. 

- Caroline Clark, Founder and Coaching Psychologist, Caroline Clark Coaching