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Gen X Women: More Opportunities, Less Satisfaction? Gen X Women: More Opportunities, Less Satisfaction?
(32 minutes later)
WHY WE CAN’T SLEEPWomen’s New Midlife CrisisBy Ada CalhounWHY WE CAN’T SLEEPWomen’s New Midlife CrisisBy Ada Calhoun
It took three nights for me to realize that “Why We Can’t Sleep: Women’s New Midlife Crisis” was not ideal bedtime reading. I try to avoid explicitly labeling those hours when I lie awake — maybe they’re insomnia but maybe they’re just, you know, nocturnal musing — and the breadth of data in Ada Calhoun’s book made such avoidance challenging. If I or my fellow Generation X women are lying in bed with our minds racing, Calhoun argues, it’s with good reason.It took three nights for me to realize that “Why We Can’t Sleep: Women’s New Midlife Crisis” was not ideal bedtime reading. I try to avoid explicitly labeling those hours when I lie awake — maybe they’re insomnia but maybe they’re just, you know, nocturnal musing — and the breadth of data in Ada Calhoun’s book made such avoidance challenging. If I or my fellow Generation X women are lying in bed with our minds racing, Calhoun argues, it’s with good reason.
Compared with earlier generations, those of us born between 1965 and 1980 earn less, are in greater debt, are more likely to have children with intellectual disabilities or developmental delays and are expected to be constantly available to both our kids and our jobs. If we’re single, heterosexual and well educated, we face a “man deficit”; if we’re married, we’re more frustrated by our spouses. As if all that’s not enough, there’s social media to really make us feel physically and existentially inadequate.Compared with earlier generations, those of us born between 1965 and 1980 earn less, are in greater debt, are more likely to have children with intellectual disabilities or developmental delays and are expected to be constantly available to both our kids and our jobs. If we’re single, heterosexual and well educated, we face a “man deficit”; if we’re married, we’re more frustrated by our spouses. As if all that’s not enough, there’s social media to really make us feel physically and existentially inadequate.
Our generation’s bad luck is, apparently, not new. The ’70s and ’80s “was a rough time to be a kid,” Calhoun writes. The economy was sinking, crime was spiking, nuclear war was plausible, divorce rates were soaring and helicopter parenting was anomalous. Many of us knew about AIDS long before we had sex, and we watched the Challenger explode on live TV. Raised on the promise of Title IX and that Enjoli perfume ad where the woman sings about how she can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, we’re disappointed in ourselves for not taking advantage of supposedly limitless opportunities.Our generation’s bad luck is, apparently, not new. The ’70s and ’80s “was a rough time to be a kid,” Calhoun writes. The economy was sinking, crime was spiking, nuclear war was plausible, divorce rates were soaring and helicopter parenting was anomalous. Many of us knew about AIDS long before we had sex, and we watched the Challenger explode on live TV. Raised on the promise of Title IX and that Enjoli perfume ad where the woman sings about how she can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, we’re disappointed in ourselves for not taking advantage of supposedly limitless opportunities.
[ This book was one of our most anticipated titles of January. See the full list. ]
“Why We Can’t Sleep” grew out of an article for O Magazine that went viral, so perhaps it’s facile to say that it reads like a book that grew out of an article. Calhoun alternates among citing statistics and studies; interviewing experts and an assortment of Gen X women, including her friends; and relaying her own experiences. The results of this format are mixed. Some statistics feel cherry-picked or just hard to prove — are Gen X women really more dissatisfied with their marriages than boomers? — and at times, as in the chapter on perimenopause, being Gen X, being female and being middle-aged seem to get conflated. By contrast, the economic and labor statistics are both convincing and sobering.“Why We Can’t Sleep” grew out of an article for O Magazine that went viral, so perhaps it’s facile to say that it reads like a book that grew out of an article. Calhoun alternates among citing statistics and studies; interviewing experts and an assortment of Gen X women, including her friends; and relaying her own experiences. The results of this format are mixed. Some statistics feel cherry-picked or just hard to prove — are Gen X women really more dissatisfied with their marriages than boomers? — and at times, as in the chapter on perimenopause, being Gen X, being female and being middle-aged seem to get conflated. By contrast, the economic and labor statistics are both convincing and sobering.
And Calhoun’s essential premise is highly persuasive. I know a lot of women with seemingly enviable professional and personal lives who aren’t happy and secretly worry they’re doing everything wrong. Is this, I’ve wondered, simply the human condition? Is it being in our 40s? Is our malaise Trump-induced?And Calhoun’s essential premise is highly persuasive. I know a lot of women with seemingly enviable professional and personal lives who aren’t happy and secretly worry they’re doing everything wrong. Is this, I’ve wondered, simply the human condition? Is it being in our 40s? Is our malaise Trump-induced?
If at some point the book began exacerbating my own sleeplessness as much as explaining it, there are pleasures to be had in the familiar pop cultural references (“The Facts of Life,” Riot Grrrls) and the darkly amusing anecdotes: Calhoun’s friend’s phone pinged to let her know that Amazon had shipped her order for the book “More Than Two: A Practical Guide to Ethical Polyamory.” But the friend hadn’t ordered it — her husband had. Another friend with work and marriage troubles “rented herself a private karaoke room that had a three-person minimum. She lied to the staff, saying friends were coming to join her, then spent two hours alone singing as loud as she could. She ordered enough food for several people. … She felt the freedom to scream at the top of her lungs for two hours was worth the cost of 24 mozzarella sticks.”If at some point the book began exacerbating my own sleeplessness as much as explaining it, there are pleasures to be had in the familiar pop cultural references (“The Facts of Life,” Riot Grrrls) and the darkly amusing anecdotes: Calhoun’s friend’s phone pinged to let her know that Amazon had shipped her order for the book “More Than Two: A Practical Guide to Ethical Polyamory.” But the friend hadn’t ordered it — her husband had. Another friend with work and marriage troubles “rented herself a private karaoke room that had a three-person minimum. She lied to the staff, saying friends were coming to join her, then spent two hours alone singing as loud as she could. She ordered enough food for several people. … She felt the freedom to scream at the top of her lungs for two hours was worth the cost of 24 mozzarella sticks.”
Ultimately, however, so many women appear that they blur together. And matters aren’t helped by Calhoun’s curious disclaimer: “Except where relevant, I do not call attention in the book to these women’s race, sexuality or other demographic markers, though they do mirror the makeup of the country.” Except where relevant? When it comes to such personal stories, aren’t these demographic markers always relevant?Ultimately, however, so many women appear that they blur together. And matters aren’t helped by Calhoun’s curious disclaimer: “Except where relevant, I do not call attention in the book to these women’s race, sexuality or other demographic markers, though they do mirror the makeup of the country.” Except where relevant? When it comes to such personal stories, aren’t these demographic markers always relevant?
I wished Calhoun had included fewer women’s stories but gone into those stories in greater detail. The life she portrays in the most depth is her own, and her descriptions of money struggles and health challenges are candid and engaging. She’s a funny, smart, compassionate narrator, and I’m not surprised that she has a lot of friends. I also admired her insistence on taking women’s concerns seriously, which starts with the book’s dedication — “For the middle-aged women of America. You’re not imagining it, and it’s not just you” — and encompasses her deliberate use of the term midlife crisis. (“I like it,” she explains, “because it makes what’s happening sound like the big deal I believe it to be.”) If Calhoun is willing to concede that “the complaints of well-educated, middle- and upper-middle-class women are easy to disparage — as a temporary setback, a fixable hormonal imbalance, or #FirstWorldProblems,” then the very existence of “Why We Can’t Sleep” is an effective rebuttal.I wished Calhoun had included fewer women’s stories but gone into those stories in greater detail. The life she portrays in the most depth is her own, and her descriptions of money struggles and health challenges are candid and engaging. She’s a funny, smart, compassionate narrator, and I’m not surprised that she has a lot of friends. I also admired her insistence on taking women’s concerns seriously, which starts with the book’s dedication — “For the middle-aged women of America. You’re not imagining it, and it’s not just you” — and encompasses her deliberate use of the term midlife crisis. (“I like it,” she explains, “because it makes what’s happening sound like the big deal I believe it to be.”) If Calhoun is willing to concede that “the complaints of well-educated, middle- and upper-middle-class women are easy to disparage — as a temporary setback, a fixable hormonal imbalance, or #FirstWorldProblems,” then the very existence of “Why We Can’t Sleep” is an effective rebuttal.
“Writing this book cured my midlife crisis,” Calhoun reveals, hearteningly, near the end. The recommendations she makes based on her research and personal experience: Get off your phone and away from social media. Look out for your health, but don’t be too hard on yourself, and remember that sometimes feeling miserable is normal. Join or form a club with other women.“Writing this book cured my midlife crisis,” Calhoun reveals, hearteningly, near the end. The recommendations she makes based on her research and personal experience: Get off your phone and away from social media. Look out for your health, but don’t be too hard on yourself, and remember that sometimes feeling miserable is normal. Join or form a club with other women.
I happened to finish reading “Why We Can’t Sleep” a few days before I was scheduled to have dinner with four other women, all writers close to my age. Because we’d previously discussed meeting regularly to talk shop, I opened the book before I left home and reread Calhoun’s tips for forming quasi-professional groups. Then I went out into the world to see my friends.I happened to finish reading “Why We Can’t Sleep” a few days before I was scheduled to have dinner with four other women, all writers close to my age. Because we’d previously discussed meeting regularly to talk shop, I opened the book before I left home and reread Calhoun’s tips for forming quasi-professional groups. Then I went out into the world to see my friends.