“You’re leaving money on the table!” a friend’s 25-year-old daughter told me recently, sipping cold brew out of a jar that was definitely once a candle. “You could totally build a brand around being a fierce middle-aged woman! People would love to watch you struggle to get out of your Spanx!”
Yes, but people also love watching pimple popping videos. Let’s not pretend the bar isn’t set basically underground at this point.
But apparently the fact that I’m over 40, annoyed by loud noises, and occasionally injured by sleeping isn’t simply a stage of life. It’s a marketing opportunity.
I admit it’s tempting. I could monetize the laugh lines. Turn insomnia into inspirational Instagram quotes. Hashtag my hormones. Sell empowerment in the form of a $90 eye cream that makes you “look tired on purpose.”
There’s just one problem: I don’t want to build a personal brand around forgetting where I parked my car at Costco.
I just want to find my car.
The Side Hustle Cult
Once upon a simpler time, a side hustle was innocent—walking dogs, selling cupcakes, babysitting. Small things here and there for a little extra cash. Now, women cannot simply exist. They have to franchise themselves.
Welcome to the Side Hustle Cult.
The rules are simple:
Every mundane skill is a neglected fortune.
Every pastime, a pitch deck.
A nap is a Reel about exhaustion.
A love of coffee? A “female-founded artisanal bean subscription box.”
Even your mammogram comes with an affiliate code for wax and wine.
Nothing is sacred. Nothing is private.
And it all belongs in your Etsy shop.
“Everything’s content!” they say. Sure. Everything is content—for therapy. Or with your best friend over wine and tacos. Not for strangers on the internet who can turn your colonoscopy prep, grocery store meltdown, or family dinner into a viral meme.
But the algorithmic message pops up loud and clear: If you’re not monetizing your life, you’re wasting it.
Yes, I’ll Cry Over My Spatula
We’re told that “authenticity sells,” but most “relatable” content is curated chaos.
The truth?
Most of us aren’t redecorating our houses every quarter like we’re running a seasonal Pottery Barn pop-up. We’re not flying to Bali to find sponsored enlightenment in a coconut. We’re Googling what weird internet acronyms mean and ranting about the fact that they changed the scent of our laundry soap.
Meanwhile, influencers are “such a mess” because they forgot to sage their meditation corner before opening a gifted Dyson Airwrap. They stage spilling matcha an absurdly expensive sofa and hashtagging it #menopausemoment. They caption a breakdown over Whole Foods being out of moon dust magnesium with “just being vulnerable.”
But vulnerability isn’t shot with a DSLR at the golden hour. Vulnerability is finding your keys in the fridge and accepting, with quiet dignity, that this is your life now.
Influencers keep trying though. Because the algorithm rewards women who publicly break down in cinematic slow motion. Not those of us having a silent, spontaneous existential crisis alone when our favorite spatula breaks.
Why? Because the former is profitable.
But real, messy, unbranded life? Irrelevant.
At least on the internet.
I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead—and Also Any Other Chance I Get
Just like the lie that kale is delicious, we’ve been sold the myth that engagement equals empowerment. That aging should be celebrated in the form of carousel posts, comments, and monthly royalties checks. And on some level, sure. The more we champion strong, powerful, complicated women, the better the world will be.
But that visibility has a disclaimer.
It’s a nonstop wave of performative living: wellness routines, productivity hacks, and endless self-improvement plans. If you’re not hustling at 3 a.m., cold plunging, biohacking, or launching a lifestyle brand based on skincare and “only good vibes,” are you even trying?
I don’t need the internet to tell me I’m falling behind.
That’s what the basket of clean but unfolded laundry is for.
We should be able to live without a business plan for our breakfast and boob sweat.
That’s not liberation. It’s performance. Another way to prove we’re still relevant. And just as exhausting.
Want more? Get PROVOKED’s free Thursday newsletter. Sign up at PROVOKEDMagazine.com.
(Don’t) Do the Hustle
If you want to turn your midlife years into a meno-chic brand about hot flashes and chin hair? I salute you. May your conversions be strong and your engagement rates robust. In fact, I’ll likely give you a follow.
But me? I don’t want another hustle. I have a hard enough time with the hustles I already have. The last thing I want to do is to explain to confused relatives why I’m suddenly taking pictures of my lunch and ending conversations with “link in bio!” (Related: Everything’s a Subscription—Including My Sanity)
Sometimes a hobby is just a hobby, not a hashtag.
Sometimes age is just a number, not a niche.
Sometimes it’s all just … life.
And refusing to make it a marketing plan isn’t failure.
It’s freedom.
Enjoyed this story? Read more from PROVOKED at provokedmagazine.com.
My Midlife Marketing Plan
So, what is my plan?
I’ll cut my hair without calling it “content.” Switch probiotics without announcing it’s part of my “growth journey.” Eat avocado toast without taking a picture and writing a 2,000-word blog post about my spiritual awakening in Trader Joe’s bread aisle.
My wrinkles won’t make me rich.
My brand won’t break the internet.
But at least no one’s watching me try to get out of my shapewear in a time-lapse video set to a Olivia Rodrigo remix.
Because I believe in mystery.
And also avoiding a viral trying-to-get-out-of-my-sweaty-sports-bra injury.
That—to me—is priceless.
Related:
- Middle-aged Women: Myths, Truth, and the Eye Roll You Deserve
- I Didn’t Mean to Cheat. I Just Needed a Trim.
- Garage Sales Are a Great Way to Make $20 and Lose Your Damn Mind
Ask us! What questions do you have about content, strategy, pop culture, lifestyle, wellness, history or more? We may use your question in an upcoming article!
Like MediaFeed’s content? Be sure to follow us.
This article originally appeared on PROVOKED and was syndicated by MediaFeed.co.
