The Midlife Crisis

By campodegelo

Finally this moment has arrived, feared by many and longed for by few.

The notorious crisis of the 30’s, of the middle age, of the collection of results and successes.

But what defines your success?

Depending on the place where we were raised, the conditions and adversities faced, the love and affection received, and unfortunately even the race and sexual choice, the recipe and final goal may differ a lot.

Where I grew up they taught that it was important to be happy and not hurt others for it, but what was around me was different.

Emotions gave way to numbers, smiles to results, joy to a big and fat bank account. The profession should be chosen on the basis of the figures, not just the skills and tastes. A successful person should have a house, a car, a family, good clothes, maybe an apartment at the beach, and of course the cell phone of the moment.

I did not see myself in that profile. For many it works, but not for me.

The routine of 8 hours a day in a meaningless job, just to add numbers to my bank account, and then say that I was happy on weekends, and on vacation, did not captivate me. So I made the hardest decision of my life (even if I realized it only later): to leave my family and seek success.

In India it was a little different, and maybe I was already old for that. At the age of 26 and without the prospect of a marriage, the questions were incessant. Apparently I could not be happy without someone by my side.

Upon returning to Brazil the employment bond tried to knock on my door again, but I did not relent. I had already tasted that poison before.

With suitcases ready, I left again, this time for Europe, from where my ancestors departed, perhaps in search of the same treasure I desire.

At the old continent I learned a new language, I went down some stairs to try a longer jump through a new graduation (it is never too late for a change), but the same ghosts still prowled the scene.

Work for work, gain for gain, spend for spending.

I continued to travel, and even intensified the pace. The places no longer mattered. Anything new, any different person and any culture to be discovered satisfied me.

The new studies pleased me, but the future was still hazy, then I came to South Korea, and with it all levels were extrapolated.

Social pressure attacks you on all sides, or at least that was the impression I took of the dear, kind, and shy Koreans. It was not enough to be good in your duty, there is the need to be the best, but do not think that this is a good parameter, the highest suicide rate in the world do not let me lie. From there I crossed Southeast Asia and some ideas began to emerge. My childhood dream was being drawn, or rather written.

Neither astronaut, much less a footballer, when I was little I wanted to be a writer, but the lack of style, the bullying, and the not so promising career changed my destiny.

Today I travel in search of success and write because I think it can encourage someone to fight for their dreams.

If I’m on the right track, I have no way of knowing, but I cheer to this crisis of the 30’s and say (write) in a loud voice (or capital letters):


2 thoughts on “The Midlife Crisis

  • Adel November 3, 2017 at 09:18 Reply

    This was a lovely read. I admire you for chasing your dream. I guess you can say I am also in a 30’s life crisis then.

    • campodegelo November 7, 2017 at 10:52 Reply

      Let’s all seek our dreams and leave the crisis away 🙂

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