The Forty Files

Moonlit Missive #5—which, truth be told, is actually a morning missive—because middle age demands its due, and last night, sleep found me, wrapped me in its overdue embrace, and refused to let go.

Today’s love letter is for the middle-aged man or woman trapped in what I affectionately call “Yuck Stuck Syndrome.”

Moonlit Missives is my February series dedicated to writing love letters to individuals and communities deserving of recognition and respect. Valentine’s Day is the perfect opportunity to express love, appreciation, and remind others of their visibility and significance. Through these heartfelt letters, I hope to uplift, honor, and celebrate those who often go unrecognized.

Dear Middle-Aged Person in Yuck Stuck Syndrome,

Right now, your calendar is likely overflowing—with events that aren’t even for you. A child’s practice, a teen’s social life, an obligation that seemed small when you first said yes but now looms over your already strained schedule. If you’re abundantly blessed, you’re balancing this chaos for more than one child, maybe a few. And amid all that, you’re also juggling the relentless demands of work, the never-ending bills, the ever-rising grocery costs, and vacations that are dictated by schedules rather than serenity.

You are tired from everything. You worry about anything.

Between mammograms and colonoscopies, between financial planning and fleeting peace, your mind is a battlefield of responsibility and contradiction. You long to be your best self but are weighed down by obligations—even the ones you once craved. They now consume more than they fulfill. And so, with love, I tell you: You are Yuck Stuck.

But now, pretend with me.

Pretend you can redraw the boundaries. Imagine something different—more or less, bigger or smaller, quieter or bolder. Just envision it.

Now breathe.

Do you remember when we still believed in the possibility of a pivot? That we could shift, redirect, rewrite the script? Well, go forth and do that. Because we are too old to pretend time is on our side. It isn’t. It is reflecting—in our children, in our wrinkles, in our grays.

Who gives a damn? Live.

Boldly unstuck yourself. Yum your yuck. Carve joy into the rock of your reality—or, hell, climb a new mountain altogether. But do something. Anything. Other than just wonder.

Leave no “what if” on the table.

With love,
A Fellow Unstucker