Where Are the Stories for the Rest of Us?

Why culture forgets us once we’re past our “prime," and why we’re not done yet

Earlier, I was scrolling through our extensive list of beloved movies to find something to put on in the background while I wrote today. A very specific thought popped into my head (and not for the first time). Maybe it's popped into yours before, as well, especially if you're old enough to have ever felt old a time or two before.

Have you ever noticed how almost every big, beautiful, culture-defining story seems to revolve around someone under the age of 30?

Books, movies, myths, quests, revolutions, coming-of-age dramas, mind-bending sci-fi, even the weird cult classics we pass around like secret candy – all starring people in their teens or twenties. Sometimes very early twenties. Occasionally, you might stumble across a “grizzled” 35-year-old, which is code for "already spiritually retired."

And I get it. Youth makes for juicy storytelling. It’s a time of life that's alive with epic firsts. First love. First heartbreak. First existential crisis. First realization that your parents don’t actually know what they’re doing. First world-class fuck-up. There's intensity, discovery, and mistakes with consequences. It's all very cinematic.

But as someone who's solidly not in her twenties anymore, I’ve found myself wondering more and more often:

What happens to the rest of us?

Do we just... fade into the background? Is it truly our job now to become quirky supporting characters or stoic mentors? Are we no longer allowed to burn things down and start over? Make epically bad decisions? Discover something about ourselves so transformative that it sends us into a new chapter of life?

Or do amazing things like that only happen when your skin still has collagen and your student loan grace period hasn’t ended yet?

Apparently, Midlife Is Just Paperwork

According to mainstream media, the timeline looks something like this:

• 0–30: The era of discoveries, mistakes, and plot-driven experience
• 30–50: The time of taxes, dry rot, and vague marital dissatisfaction
• 50+: The time of... knitting? Wandering into the sea? Coaching a younger person through their story, because their own is obviously over?

And that’s just... sad. Not because knitting is bad. (Knitting honestly looks pretty amazing.) But because it flattens one of the most potent truths of real life.

We are always becoming. From the time we're born all the way until the day we ultimately peace out. I certainly am, and you likely are, too.

Yes, even in your 40s or 50s. Yes, even when your knees make noises and your hips hurt. Yes, even when the youthful version of yourself is starting to feel like someone you once rented a room from.

Because I'm Still Making Discoveries Over Here

Honestly? I’ve made some of the biggest realizations of my life after 35. Some were gentle and lovely, like remembering I’m still an artist – something I thought I gave up trying to be years ago, only to rediscover it in a rush of color and overly detailed Midjourney prompts.

Others were gut-punches, like realizing how much of my life I’ve spent trying to survive instead of actually live. Or how many old belief systems I still needed to question, thank, and release.

And let’s not even get into the spiritual downloads, personal revelations, late-night cosmic musings, or the whole “still becoming who I was always meant to be” thing. Because yes, that still happens. Maybe more now than ever.

But where are those stories? Because seriously, it can't possibly be just me going through all this at this age. I don't even leave the house that often, yet this is my life.

So, where are the movies about some dude in his 40s who accidentally joins a secret society of time travelers while figuring out how to rebuild after a toxic parent dies? Where’s the epic fantasy starring a 47-year-old woman who didn’t even know she was powerful until her life blew up and she had to start again with a crystal in one hand and a resignation letter in the other?

Where are the mythologies that make space for blooming a little later in life... or maybe just blooming again?

A Few That Get Close

Okay, to be fair, they do exist. They’re just not usually marketed as potential blockbusters or framed as “epic.” But here are a few I love:

• Before Midnight: A rare film about a couple in their 40s that’s honest, heartbreaking, and beautiful
• Thelma & Louise: A unique female "buddy film" that finds two women in midlife doing some pretty epic things (and a critically acclaimed film at that)
• Nomadland: Which quietly wrecked me in the best way
• The Hours, American Beauty, Lost in Translation, Something's Gotta Give, As Good as It Gets

These are the stories that whisper, if not outright insist, “You’re not done yet.” And I cling to them like sacred relics.

But I want more.

A Sacred Reclamation

I want messy, sacred, cinematic transformation for a whole lot more fun, fascinating characters in their 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s, and beyond.

I especially want the story where the woman in her 40s is not the grieving mom, the quirky aunt, or the one-dimensional boss lady. I want the story where she is the main character. I want to watch her find her way through a life where she's still figuring it out. Still screwing things up. Still awakening. Still changing.

Because that’s real life.

And if we’re not seeing those stories, maybe it’s up to people like us to write them. Or paint them. Or sing them. Or build gardens and rituals and lives around them. Maybe we are the new myth-makers. Maybe it’s our job to remind the world that the second act isn’t a decline but a pivot.

A power surge. A plot twist. A beginning that looks suspiciously like an ending, but isn’t.

So Here's Your Reminder (and Mine)

If you're currently smack in the middle of midlife yourself? You are not past your prime. You are not finished growing. You are not someone else’s backstory, and you're sure as shit not a side character in your own life.

You're still fully in the story on every possible level. And it’s a good one.