An Invitation to Witness My Midlife Becoming
This essay was originally posted March 24, 2026 to Substack
Thoughts on fear, identity, and the courage to be fully seen.
To my fellow square pegs:
I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of shaving my edges down to fit into the round holes I’ve been told to stand in.
Here’s to being awkward, edgy, and square.
I’ve never been someone who likes doing things halfway. That doesn’t mean I always finish the things I start. It means if I start and realize I can’t fully commit, I probably shouldn’t proceed.
I find myself at the strangest intersection. I can turn right or left if I want, but in my gut I know I’ve only ever had one trajectory. Forward. Since I was little, I have lived my life patiently waiting for the day when I could exhale. Stop performing. I’ve lived my entire life waiting to just exist.
In roughly sixty days, I’ll turn forty-seven years old. Surely I can be myself now. Right? I’ve spent a lot of time over the last year wondering who I was before the world began telling me who I should be. The truth is, I’ve never believed it. I always knew I was playing a role. Faking it. But I’ve been doing this so long, the muscle memory of this character is starting to run the show.
I can’t let that happen.
Being my fully authentic self has never felt safe. And now, at the midpoint of my life, God seems to be waking up something inside of me that refuses to be ignored. The real me. The awkward square peg who never understood why she was too much.
I miss her.
Three-year-old me at Six Flags
The exterior I present to the world doesn’t do her justice and I long to introduce her to you. She’s a little weird and goofy, and also warm. Yellow and vibrant, like sunshine. I used to think I was wearing these personality clouds to protect you from her. Now I realize I’ve been protecting her from you.
I hate that the world told her she was too bright. I wish I could have told her sooner that the sun never dims itself. It’s up to us to protect ourselves from the elements God placed in the world. She is one of those elements—I am one of those elements. You are also one of those elements.
God placed us here, just as we are. He never told us to be anything else.
I think about purity that way. Not as a means of avoiding sin, but as a remembrance of who we are at the core. To me purity isn’t about staying clean from the world. It’s about staying clean from false identity. From expectations that were never mine. From performing a version of myself God never asked for.
At risk of redundancy, I want to say that another way: God placed us here just as we are and never once asked us to be anything other than ourselves.
God made me loud and weird, and vibrant like sunshine, and I shroud myself in clouds to dim the light God intended to brighten the world around me. Why does our culture dim our God-given light while we’re too young to know better?
I’ve decided something. I think for my birthday this year, the gift I will give myself, is the safety to fully return.
Allowing the world access to bear witness to my mid-life becoming, is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done, because I don’t do things halfway. As I said, sometimes I start and don’t finish things because, if I can’t fully commit, why bother.
But there has only ever been one trajectory for me, and that is forward.
And while I don’t know what I’m becoming, this is as close as I’ve come to giving her breath:
Note: I made a small, intentional revision to this poem before deciding to publish it—not out of shame, but out of a desire to create a space more people can step into. I have no interest in closing the door on anyone who might need it.
I Don’t Know How to Explain This
I don’t know how to be
a Christian
I don’t know how to
disciple
All I know, is
everything is hard
Grief and despair
sickness, and death,
and more dying
A ticking clock
time running out
Responsibilities
the whole sky is falling
I should be crying
and I am
When I least expect it
my cheeks are wet
And yet…
the laughter
It surprises me
this joy of being
I am pressed
the weight of it too much
For me
but somehow, not for my God
The One who loves me so much
even when I'm wrong,
even when I start to feel
sorry for myself
Or when I start to believe
that I’m alone
He shows me
somehow carries me
over the waves
that threaten to take me out
I can’t show you
or tell you
And those who seem perfect
They’re not
Fake it til you make it, right?
But we don’t have to fake anything
I wish someone would tell them
Purity isn’t keeping yourself clean
from the filth of fornication and bad decisions
Purity is maintaining your authenticity
in a culture where square pegs
are asked to shave themselves down
to fit into round holes
Here’s a secret
you don’t have to do that
You’re a square
so be a square
Jesus is rad
as in radical
If you open that book
the one people use against you
Ask Him
whatever you want
Let him in
and just go with it
Then, I think
you will have
new eyes to see
in brighter light
new ears to hear
a different song
Then, you won’t
know how either
I mean you will…
but, like me
you won’t be able
to explain itIf you would like to be notified when new essays or poems are posted, please subscribe for free at substack.
A quick note: I have no intention of ever charging any type of monthly fee to read my words. These essays and poems are my daily offering. If the seeds planted here someday produce grain, and eventually become bread—books, artwork, workshops, etc.—those things will be separate from the writing shared here.
Thank you for reading and supporting The Common Joy.
—Mack
