I’m Having a Midlife Crisis. Will a 2,000-Mile Hike Snap Me Out of It?

I’m in my mid-forties, and for the past 15 years, I’ve lived an extremely steady, boring life. I know I sound like a stereotype, but watching my friends get older and experience health problems makes me want to savor the youth I have left. When I think of living like this for the rest of my life, and then dying, I start to freak out. I want to do things. Both of my kids are teenagers, and when I watch them try new things—full of possibilities for how their lives could go—I’m incredibly happy for them. But I wish I could have that same feeling of possibility for myself.

I’ve been daydreaming about quitting my job and hiking the PCT, or learning how to surf (I haven’t decided yet), and then coming back and starting a new career. I’ve mentioned some of my aspirations to my wife, and she’s supportive, but I haven’t talked to her about the full extent of what I want to do: completely shake up my life and take the time to figure out who I really am now. I love my family, and I don’t want to worry them or change anything about them. It’s just me I want to change.

That said, I’ve always been the stable one for my wife and kids to lean on, and I worry that doing something big—like leaving to hike the PCT solo—would cause a lot of stress for them. My own parents weren’t around much growing up, and I always promised myself that I’d never be like them. That said, this feeling is getting stronger and it’s hard for me to ignore it. How do I handle my midlife crisis without being a jerk to the people I love?

Your kids are teenagers. When they try something completely new, is that a crisis? Not at all. It’s self-discovery. Who says that kind of exploration has to end when you hit a certain age? You’re never too old—or young—to reimagine who you want to be in the world.

I think it’s fantastic that you’re filled with the kind of energy that makes you want to do something big. You’re seeing possibilities that you never considered before. A mid-life crisis doesn’t have to be a crisis—in fact, it doesn’t have to be negative at all. With the right framing, and as long as you don’t abandon your responsibilities, it can be an incredible adventure.

Because you do have responsibilities now, ones you didn’t when you were younger, and you know them better than I do. I’m guessing they include financially contributing to your household, being a loyal partner to your wife, and caring for your kids. That last role, in particular, is changing fast. Your kids may not need you to brush their teeth or make their lunches anymore—but they sure as heck need you to love them, see them for who they are, offer comfort, and guide them on their way.

Your stability as a family member, as a parent and partner, isn’t dependent on you doing the same thing day after day, year after year, until you die. It’s about your commitment and your loyalty. It’s about listening to your kids and wife, and hearing what they need from you, even if it’s not what you expected. It’s about never giving up on changing for the better.

You’re never too old—or young—to reimagine who you want to be in the world.

None of that is contingent on stifling your own dreams. Keep in mind that being part of a stable, loving family doesn’t just mean you’re supporting your wife and kids. It also means they’re supporting you.

Talk to your wife. Tell her what you’re thinking. If you made major life decisions and simply informed her, rather than asking her opinion, you would be a jerk. But if you came to her early, explained the situation to her with humility, and asked for her perspective and advice, that would actually make you a responsible partner. You can talk through options together, consider your finances, and explore what makes sense for the whole family. What concerns does she have? What solutions might address them?

Maybe you can take a break from work, rather than quitting outright, and see if some time away helps you feel refreshed. Maybe you can start with a smaller adventure, like taking a surfing class or planning a week-long hike—and your family could even come along! Or, if travel’s rough, is there a way for you to take on something new and exciting without leaving home? Could you study at night to prepare ahead of time for a career shift? Your wife may have ideas that would never have occurred to you on your own. She might not be as surprised as you think.

Or maybe she’s even been feeling similarly herself, and you’ll be the one who’s surprised.

All this energy you have right now, this stirring to change things? That’s creative energy. It doesn’t have to be destructive. Think of it as the energy an athlete has before a game, jumping on the sidelines to warm up, or the energy an artist has before putting a brush to canvas. Now is the time for possibilities, and daydreaming, and making sure your family’s on board. It’s the time for considering their dreams, too, and seeing how everyone’s visions mesh. Then, when you step into your new life, you’ll be doing so together. Or if you do try something new on your own, they’ll be right there cheering on the side.

Blair Braverman writes our Tough Love column. She lives near the Nicolet National Forest in Wisconsin, and her longest hiking trip was the 400-mile Oregon Coast Trail. She has not yet had a midlife crisis.