Quiet Mountain Essays
Copyright ©, 2005
Midlescence; The Crucial Time of My Life
by
Helene Kylen
My worst fear when I was a young woman was that I might never fall in love or be loved, never
marry and have children. I dated constantly and hated it. At 25, however, I fell madly in love
and, at 27, I married. It was 1960. By age 30, I was a mother with two daughters -- living my
dream in the suburbs, Yonkers, NY, where I’d grown up.
At 40, people described me as independent, efficient, reliable. I saw myself, however, as rather
dependent, not-as-smart-as-my-husband, and easily intimidated. I’d start a comment with, “My
husband says,” or “Sy believes…” My opinions were worthless because I didn’t know enough; I
was a girl; ridicule from childhood had silenced me.
When my daughters were teenagers, my language was peppered with “void,” “empty.” What
would I do for the next thirty years now that they would be leaving home? What would become of
me? I wanted a place in the world but didn’t know where that place was, let alone how to get
there. I’d loved being a wife and mother but now was restless, discontented and disconnected. I
didn’t know what I wanted because I didn’t know what was possible, I’d been so busy with the
“shoulds” of my life, being dependable to others’ needs, I hadn’t attended to my own. I needed
an identity that was truly mine, not a role assigned to me, not defined by my relationship as wife,
mother and daughter.
In 1978, I took a writing class at Sarah Lawrence College. I wrote in my journal, “I am who I am
because of my husband”, as if marriage had formed who I was. In class, I asked, “Why do you
want my opinion? I’m only a housewife?” Lenora De Sio, my instructor, said, “Helene, say that
once more and I’ll wash out your mouth with soap.”
I received my grade. Full of excitement like a little girl, I said my husband, “ I got an A+!” His
comment: “Your teacher’s just soothing your ego”
So afraid he might be right I called my instructor. She’d expected my call: “You earned it,” she
said, “Get off your ass and start writing.”
The Women’s Movement profoundly affected me; it validated my intelligence, intuition, and my
life lived as a woman. It was a time of uncertainty and much anxiety. I learned what was
important to me by the tears I shed. During those years I was an immigrant caught between two
cultures that viewed women differently. At times I felt like a novice trapeze artist having to let go
of one bar before grabbing the next. Scary and exhilarating. Though I became the butterfly, I
still remember being the worm—and value the difference.
I was conflicted between being a wife and a writer. And there was mourning-- the loss of illusions
that once seemed so real and necessary. I saw my father, whom I’d worshipped as a child, as a
selfish, bossy, controlling man who devalued women –“catty, jealous, small-minded and
untrustworthy.”
I fought a fierce emotional battle fueled by the terror of being like my mother, a depressed,
helpless, childlike Mama who played the victim all her life. Mama was always the pessimist; I
chose to be an optimist like Dad.
The long, difficult journey to finding a self began. That meant having power over and for myself,
not owned by my fears and rejections. Power cures what nothing else can, but it must come from
within. The pressure of necessity left little time for procrastination. ‘Intention” comes from Latin
“to stretch.” I knew I had to stretch my beliefs and discard my self-limitations to do something
new. With therapy, encouragement from daughters and friends, my “ I shall” gave me the
assumption of “I can” and provided the energy and direction to transform myself.
In 1982, my husband and I moved to Greenwich Village. The world opened up to me. I was
invited to be the public relations director of the NYC Coalition for Women’s Mental Health, and
hosted conferences on domestic violence and sex offenders. I attended seminars, and did research
on why people are the way they are (a question from childhood). I edited the NYC Probation
Department Manual; my articles were published in numerous professional mental health journals.
I look back on all of this with a feeling of “I can’t believe I did it.” Later I taught creative writing
and editing at Baruch College. My husband’s response to all this was neutral, non-committal. It
took him three days to read my 4500 word piece in the Court Review.
My husband had a midlife depression, (constantly sleeping) and underwent a severe personality
change. He remained angry and depressed, became bullying. At 68, I saw my golden years were
turning into lead. My children invited me to move to New Jersey to be near them and my
grandchildren.
After 44 years, I said goodbye to the marriage; the man I once loved was no more. I am divorced.
I have a new life filled with writing, editing, teaching at Brookdale Community College, and
enjoying family and friends -- a life full of purpose and passion.
I am single again, but this time it’s different. As a senior, I am not the person I was as a young
woman. My identity as a wife is over; now I am an advocate for other people’s dreams. Hope
resides inside the self—I choose to continue to see the glass at least half full.
Life-ripened at 72, I have more to offer to the world and to my relationships. I’ve made my
mistakes, yes, and benefited from them. I wasn’t alone. Many people believed in me, encouraged
me, expanded and enhanced my world. My intellect and identity are firmly grounded.
I had once asked myself, “Where do the secrets of my soul lie?” And I found the answer: In
colors I once saw only as gray, and in the dark despair within that age and selection transform into
the power of creation. A Buddhist saying is “Life promises some sorrow and always keeps its
promise.” I tell myself, “Never let the presence of the thorn stop you from enjoying the rose.”
Author’s Note:
In the 70s, when my children were going through adolescence, I noted the similarities and named my midlife transition
and development “Midlescence” I’ve been using the term ever since.
Contributor's Note
Ms. Kylen is a mental health writer, editor, and writing instructor at Brookdale Commmunity College. She
served as PR Dir. for the NYC Coalition for Women's Mental Health; and as an advisor to the NYC Dept. of
Probation Domestic Violence/Sexual Assault Task Force. Ms. Kylen has published articles in American
Judges' Court Review, NYSPA Psychologist, The New York Times, and Asbury Park Press.
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