My midlife crisis?

I think I am having my midlife crisis. No really. REALLY. Stop laughing. I'm not having an affair with Juan the pool boy. I don't have a pool and I really don't even know Juan. But I am, for lack of a better term, finding myself. It is strange to be this old and not "know" who I am. I come from the beginnings of the woman's movement. I was born in the 60's, grew up in the wild 70's. Yes it was the time of free love and equality for women. I was raised, however, in a traditional family arrangement. For most of my life my mother did not work outside the home. Although I don't remember her being home much either. She had friends. She did things away and apart from us. She did not have a real paying job until I was in my teens. I think she loved it. My mother was a creative person who at times stifled her creativeness. I saw her put it aside for other things. Her reasons were hers and I am not here to debate them right or wrong. I just wanted a different kind of life. Yet, I always knew I would get married, have kids, the house, etc. I saw a different path briefly during my senior year. I had a talent for numbers and typing. I excelled at accounting and typing. I even thought about going to college. It was not encouraged to go and I had no money to do it. I had no idea about scholarships or grants back then. I wish I did, a little. But then my path may have not led me to my wonderful husband and then my 2 fantastic boys. I enjoyed staying at home for the most part. I loved my boys and I loved being with them. It was great to see them understand words and then reading! Oldest loved numbers and wanted to play with my calculator all the time. I enjoyed volunteering at the schools. Being involved in my nieces and nephews schools and then my own boys schools. I worked off and on when they were growing up. No real career like my contemporaries have. I returned to the work force and did well in retail. Moving up in to management. Now that I have been blindsided by big corporate doings and upper management underhanded schemes I am completely disillusioned with it all. I still need to make money, but my job is no longer a major part of my life,  of me, of who I am. I stupidly thought that I would be there for a lot longer. Move up higher. Become "someone". So here I am at this point of my life not being identified by who my parents are, or who I am married to, or who I am mom to, or where I work or for that matter what I DO. So now who am I? I'm me. A product of all those life experiences. Should I go to school? Now? Is that it? I am trying to start my own business and it is not going as well as I had envisioned it. Is this it? It was fun at the beginning but I don't know about it now. Is there something else out there for me to do? I miss having my own money. The feeling of contributing more than just what I prepared on the dinner table to our lives. Back to struggling. It is hard not to hate that company and those people for forcing me down this unknown path. Known is safe. The unknown is more than scary. At this age it is final. There is not a lot of time for wiggle room. When you are young there is always time to change this or that. I don't see the wide expanse of time in front of me any longer. Momma's passing has made me acutely aware of our limited time here. So, guess what I did? I had my belly button pierced! Yes I did! I'm 47 and I attended a party for the explicit purpose of piercing a part of my body. And I loved it! Here I am at this advanced age and in my overweight glory, laying on the table with my shirt up to my bra exposing my stretch marked tummy, surrounded by 20 somethings in all their tiny, flat waisted, big boobed glory. And they were not judging me. There was no,"You shouldn'ts". It was a chorus of "Go for it!". I am so happy I did. I love it. It is something I wanted to do at 18. I should have. But then I wouldn't have had this experience. This was special. Wonderful. Part of the me I think I am becoming. I may not truly know who she is yet, but I think I like her so far.