Chasing the Old Me: Why Midlife Dreamers Must Stop Running Backward


When I was young, fresh out of college, I leapt into entrepreneurship with no safety net. No big family backing, no golden spoon—just a mediocre boy’s dream and the stubbornness to break every dogma that came my way. And for a while, it worked. I tasted the thrill of proving people wrong, of showing my circle what dreams can really do when you chase them with 100% fire.

Then life happened.

Marriage, kids, bills, responsibilities. Somewhere in that transition, my dream got diluted. Not because I stopped caring, but because my energy started flowing toward being a husband, a father, a provider. And every time I tried to “chase my old self,” I failed miserably.

At first, I thought I was just rusty. That I only needed to “pick up where I left off.” But the truth hit me harder than failure: time had passed, and I had changed.

We often forget that chasing our old self is like chasing a ghost. The 25-year-old me who could burn 20 hours a day on a single idea doesn’t exist anymore. Today, I’m someone new—wiser, slower maybe, but richer in perspective. And it is unfair to drag myself back into old shoes that don’t fit anymore.

This realization is liberating. It tells us that midlife is not about “continuing an unfinished story,” but about writing a new one. Dreams don’t expire—but the dreamer evolves. If you’re above 40, reading this, and still trying to become the version of you that existed before kids, marriage, or setbacks—stop. That person no longer exists.

Instead, ask: Who am I today? What do I want now?

The truth is, life doesn’t punish us for changing—it punishes us for refusing to.

So… We Don’t Talk About That Anymore?


The other day, my gym trainer — who also happens to be a good friend — casually said something that got me thinking. We were chatting about life, routines, and the things no one usually says out loud.

“Ever since our son was born, my wife just isn’t interested anymore,” he said, almost like he was talking about a new diet plan that didn’t work.

No drama. No complaints. Just a fact.

And honestly, it made sense. Life changes after kids. Sleepless nights, endless responsibilities, emotional burnout — romance quietly steps aside while survival takes the front seat.

But does that mean the marriage is broken? I don’t think so.

We’re quick to judge a relationship by how “romantic” or “exciting” it looks from the outside. But in reality, many couples go through long dry patches — emotionally and physically. And often, it’s not about lack of love. It’s exhaustion, stress, changing priorities… sometimes even unspoken resentment.

What stuck with me was how normal he made it sound — no blaming, no overthinking. Just a phase that needs attention. Not counselling, not therapy right away. Maybe just a small conversation that starts with:

“Hey, I miss us.”

Sometimes, that’s all it takes. Not to fix everything, but to stop drifting further.

We all have seasons in relationships. What matters is whether we bother to notice when winter drags on too long.