Caretaking in Midlife: The Job I Thought I Knew (Until I Didn’t)
Midlife teaches you fast: loving someone and knowing how to care for them are not always the same skill set.
If you read my First-Born Daughter Energy blog, you already know: I came into this world holding a metaphorical clipboard. I was five going on forty-seven. I was the kid who remembered everyone’s permission slips, packed the snacks, worried about the weather, and made sure no one died on the field trip.
So yes… caretaking felt like something I should be naturally good at. Especially with my own kids.
I’m the hoverer, the checker, the “just text me when you get there” mom. A worrier? Absolutely. Capable? Definitely. The emotional air-traffic controller? Always.
But a few weeks ago, my Aussie Man™ broke some bones (no, not kangaroo-related), and I got hit with a truth I wasn’t expecting:
I have never taken care of a grown adult in my life. And wow… apparently, I’m not great at it.
I kept waiting for a manual, a chart, a laminated schedule, a nurse named Barb to tell me what to do. Instead, it was just me, a very injured man, and my wildly unqualified Girl Scout energy trying to figure it out.
The Midlife Caretaking Reality Check
Here’s the bigger truth: I’m not alone. According to recent studies, more than 1 in 5 adults in their 50s are providing some form of unpaid care. Many of us are living in the long hallway between supporting aging parents and still showing up for our kids, all while trying to keep our own bodies, careers, and sanity intact.
Midlife comes with its own impossible math. We’re caring for the people who raised us, the people we’re raising, the people we love, and - finally - the person we’ve ignored the longest: ourselves.
And if you’re not a parent, trust me… caretaking still finds you. You might be the emotional first responder for your friends, the dependable one at work, the organizer of every crisis, or the person everyone calls when life goes off the rails. Caretaking isn’t just about kids; it’s about being the one who shows up… often before anyone even asks.
I’m not a fan of the term “sandwich generation,” but let’s be honest… some days it does feel like we’re the panini: warm, pressed, and somehow holding everything together with sheer will and grit.
And while my guy’s bones will heal, and he’s been gracious and pretty easy through it all (even during the moments where I feel like a very under-qualified waitress), I’m deeply aware of how light this moment is compared to the heavier loads so many of you are holding… caring for a terminally ill spouse, a parent with dementia, a child with chronic illness, or a household that depends on you in ways you never planned for.
Some of you are doing the kind of caretaking that breaks me just thinking about it: whispering goodnight to partners whose diagnoses don’t reverse, holding the hands of parents who once held yours, or showing up for children whose bodies demand more than any parent should ever have to navigate.
What I Learned While Playing Temporary Nurse Angela
Somewhere between managing ice packs and Googling “is this bruise normal or should I panic,” I realized caretaking isn’t just about logistics. It’s about identity, boundaries, guilt, exhaustion, and love… all colliding in real time.
It also forced me to name what every midlife caretaker needs to prioritize, whether you’re caring for a temporarily broken boyfriend or a deeply ill family member:
6 Things Every Midlife Caretaker Must Prioritize
1. Your own oxygen mask (the literal and emotional one)
You cannot pour from an empty cup, a cracked mug, or whatever that weird reusable water bottle is you’ve been ignoring.
2. Realistic limits (not the imaginary superhero ones)
Just because you can do everything doesn’t mean you should. Say it again, eldest daughters for the people in the back!
3. Actual breaks (not the “I’ll rest after this last thing” lie)
A walk. A nap. Sitting in your car scrolling for 12 minutes. It all counts.
4. Clear communication with the person you’re caring for
They don’t need perfection. They need honesty. And sometimes snacks.
5. A support system… paid, unpaid, borrowed, or bribed
You are not meant to do this alone. No badge of honor required.
6. Permission to feel everything
Compassion, frustration, grief, love, resentment, tenderness. They can all coexist. And they often do.
Where I Landed
My partner will heal. The bone breaks will close, the bruises will fade, and soon I’ll get to turn in my very amateur nursing license.
But being this close to the caretaking experience woke me up!
It made me think about the women and men I know who are living in this space full-time.
I see you. I’m learning from you. And I’m holding space for the weight you carry that isn’t fixable with ice packs or time.
Your Turn
Are you caretaking in midlife? Parents, partners, kids, grandkids, someone else entirely?
How has it changed you… for better, for harder, for both? Drop a comment, a story, or even a “same, girl.” This is a conversation too many women are having alone. And we don’t do “alone” here. Not here at RGG!
#RealGirlsGuidetoMidlife #MidlifeCaretaking #SandwichGeneration
We’ve earned every wrinkle. Might as well make more laugh lines together.
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P.S. I’m giving away 50 Kindle copies of my #1 best seller Real Girls Guide to Midlife on Goodreads. Honest, real, and made for us right now. Giveaway runs Jan 12–22.





Thank you for looking after me and all my bone fragments! I love you.
Caregiving is not for the faint of heart! I definitely didn't miss my calling in the healthcare arts :) Glad your Aussie Man™ is on the mend!