Sayth a new study:

Middle age is truly miserable, according to a study using data from 80 countries showing that depression is most common among men and women in their forties.

The British and U.S. researchers found that happiness for people ranging from Albania to Zimbabwe follows a U-shaped curve where life begins cheerful before turning tough during middle age and then returning to the joys of youth in the golden years….

“It happens to men and women, to single and married people, to rich and poor, and to those with and without children,” Oswald said. “Nobody knows why we see this consistency.”

One possibility may be that people realize they won’t achieve many of their aspirations at middle age, the researchers said.


As someone turning 44 this year and who was a bit depressed for a quite awhile a few years ago, I think there’s something to the idea that taking stock of one’s life is a factor.

For me, it was a time of realizing that—for better or worse—certain doors had closed and—for better or worse—certain life directions (like being single) weren’t likely to change. Plus what I do for a living went from a calling to a career to a job. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy what I do, for which I’m really thankful. But I went from being obsessively interested in a new field to having reached master-level a decade later—and realizing that all those 60-80 hour weeks meant I missed out on a lot of living. Consequently, even though I had very good odds to get a book contract (which would be great if I ever go back into consulting), I’ve haven’t been able to muster the interest to put in the effort to land the contract.

OTOH… approaching 44 I’m happier in a lot of ways than I was in my 30s. If I’m no longer the name I used to be in my industry, I no longer define myself by my job. I’m rediscovering interests that I’d put on hold in earlier years. I’m out of the closet and having a great time going out en femme and doing drag. I’m in great a relationship—albeit a long distance one—with lovely woman. I’ve developed a lot more friendships.

So anyway… I guess the moral of the tale is that while there may be some lows, there can be even greater highs, and FWIW, it’s also worth dwelling on the doors that have opened. This definitely isn’t the life I imagined at 20—back when I was going to be a high-powered, world-traveling journalist. But to be honest, I think while I regret missing a lot of stuff in my 30s, I’m ultimately more happy than the path I originally imagined.