I Didn’t Feel Brave ! Life Transition at 40 Years Old

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This didn’t feel like courage.

At forty-five, I made the decision to return to university and pursue a career in psychology. Even now, despite being told it required a lot of courage to take that step, I disagree.

It felt like I was searching for something within myself, but I was deluding myself. No one ever tells you that this decision was more about fulfilling a life purpose, and no one can help because it’s a life experience you need to embody. It comes with the cost of transforming yourself, and it’s impossible to think you won’t be going through major changes.

If I were to say this decision wasn’t driven by courage, it’s because nothing could have prepared me for this journey. It’s been more unsettling than I had ever imagined.

It wasn’t a deliberate plan; it was an internal insistence that had been growing inside me for years. I had tried to suppress it, but it persistently resurfaced. Returning to school at the age of forty-five was a way of giving form to something that had remained invisible for a long time.

I never felt brave because, beyond returning to school, there was something more profound, a persistent discomfort. It was as if staying where I was had become more challenging than initiating everything anew.

I had made that decision as a response to something deep within me, and I believed I had weighed the pros and cons carefully. However, I was mistaken; I refused to acknowledge or consider the possibility of adapting. I was blinded by my own perception. My ego wanted to protect me from the fear of losing all my references.

No one informs you that after a long day at work, you have homework. It’s late, the house is quiet, and I was there, rereading the same lines, wondering what I was doing. Exhausted, my shoulders were always tense, and I even developed tendinitis in my wrist.

Yet, I couldn’t stop.

When I finally earned my degree, close to fifty, I believed I had reached a significant milestone. However, in reality, the professional I’ve been for over two decades struggled to acknowledge that all this wouldn’t unfold as I had envisioned. There wouldn’t be enough time for me to practice as a psychologist. If I hadn’t examined this thought closely, I wouldn’t have jumped into the challenge.

Recently, I’ve experienced a profound shift in my understanding and enlightenment. I’ve been engrossed in reading “The Other Shore” by Thích Nhất Hạnh. It delves into the philosophy of Buddhism, and I’ve come to realize that what I perceived as a loss of direction was a transition. I was moving from one phase of my life to another, embracing the change and growth that it brought.

The challenge wasn’t merely about reaching the other shore and obtaining the diploma. It was about daring to give myself the opportunity to transform into the person I aspired to become.

During that crossing, that transition, nothing felt comfortable. Becoming is a fragile state, a place where you lose your sense of self. Even your skills and knowledge no longer provide reassurance.

Vulnerability inevitably emerges when crossing. I’ve learned that vulnerability can be a powerful tool rather than a weakness. There’s a change journey you must undergo, and you can’t avoid it. Authenticity reveals that what built you can no longer support you.

That’s not a comfortable thing to hear. There’s this moment when you can’t go back, but you’re not ready to move forward. I’ve experienced many of these moments when I doubted everything.

Throughout this journey, I discovered that when people asked me to let go, my mind couldn’t comprehend it. What helped me was witnessing the development of a form of inner self-respect within me, while everything else around me was changing. This realization required me to accept something simple yet profoundly unsettling: I couldn’t move forward while clinging to an outdated version of myself.

It’s disorienting because you’re in the process of becoming someone else. You need to reconnect with your inner child and respect their needs. It’s not about letting go; it’s about accepting the transformation as if you were learning to breathe differently.

Even now, there are moments when I doubt myself. However, something has changed. I’m no longer trying to go back. What surprises me is that I feel my respect for myself growing and growing from within.

Today, that matters more than anything else.

If you’re contemplating a life transition, I don’t have the answer. However, for me, the hidden gift has been a form of rebirth, one that is far more aligned with my true self.

And if I begin to heal, that can have a ripple effect on others.

This article has been first published on Medium in E3 - Entertain, Enlighten, Empower