Why "The Midlife Midwife"? My Origin Story
A personal essay on burnout, Plato's cave, and the rebirth that changed everything
This past weekend, I had the privilege of being in a room with some truly incredible humans. During our time together, someone asked me a beautifully simple question:
"Why the midwife? Where did that even come from?"
It's a question I've been asked before, but something about this moment felt different. So I want to share the real answer with you here.
The Cage I Built
More than 10 years ago, I was burning out… hard.
The thing is, I didn't know it at the time. From the outside, everything looked fine. I was checking all the boxes, meeting expectations, being "successful" by every conventional measure.
But on the inside? I was exhausted. Over-functioning. Existing in what I now understand as functional freeze.
I was living in a way that felt so restricted, so tight. And I genuinely didn't know there was another way to be. I thought the pressure was normal. The emotional weight was normal. The constant striving, pushing, forcing… all normal.
Or worse, I thought there was something wrong with me.
I had built my own cage. My own prison. And here's the truth that took me years to accept: no one locked me in. I built it.
At the time, I would have sworn up and down that it was everyone else locking me in - expectation by expectation, role by role, "should" by "should." But that wasn't the whole story.
When Something Cracked
Then burnout arrived. And with it, a crack in the walls I'd built.
What was offered to me as "recovery" didn't resonate. The conventional paths didn't address what I actually needed. So I went searching.
I discovered energy work. Herbalism. Food as medicine to support not just my body, but my heart, mind, and soul. I found different ways of understanding the body, different frameworks for identity, entirely different ways of living.
And slowly - very, very slowly, and painfully at times, and incredibly awkwardly - I began turning around in my own cage.
Plato's Cave Wasn't Just Philosophy
This brings me to something written over 2,400 years ago by Plato: The Allegory of the Cave.
If you've heard it before, bear with me… maybe something will land differently this time. And if you haven't, well, it’s story time.
In Plato's metaphor, people live in a cave their whole lives. They're positioned so all they can see is the wall in front of them. Behind them is a fire, and between them and the fire, others pass by carrying objects, going about their day.
These objects and people cast shadows on the wall.
The cave dwellers don't see the fire. They don't see the objects. They don't turn around. So they certainly don't see the larger world outside.
They only see shadows.
And because that's all they've ever known, they assume the shadows are reality. They build meaning around them. They organize their understanding of the world around these shadows. They debate them, analyze them, identify with them.
The One Who Turns
In the metaphor, one person finally turns around.
At first, it's deeply uncomfortable. Her eyes strain, adjusting to the light of the fire. But she realizes: the shadows are only reflections. Partial truths. Interpretations shaped by limited perspective.
Then she stands up. She walks. She leaves the cave entirely.
When she steps into sunlight, it's overwhelming. Her eyes need time to adjust. But slowly, she begins to see depth, color, dimension. She sees the source of light itself - the sun - and understands something profound:
What she once believed was reality was only a projection, shaped by perception and perspective.
When she returns to the cave to share this revelation, she's met with mockery and disbelief. The others think she's foolish. They don't have a reference point for what she's describing.
What the Cave Really Represents
The metaphor isn't about physical imprisonment. It's about conditioning.
The chains represent:
Assumptions mistaken for truth
Social conditioning we never questioned
Unquestioned beliefs
Attachment to familiarity and familiar identity
The roles we play that feel permanent
The deeper layer? The people in the cave don't know they're limited by perspective. They have no reference point for freedom. The limitations they're experiencing have been completely normalized.
This Was Me
When I first encountered this allegory during my burnout recovery, it hit me like lightning.
I wasn't trapped by anything dramatic or overtly abusive. I was living inside a perspective I had never questioned. Inside roles that felt permanent. Inside ways of being that seemed inevitable because "that's just how things are done."
I was the responsible one. The capable one. The strong one. The one who holds it all. The one who does it all. The one who thinks of it all.
Those weren't facts. They were shadows shaped by the fire of conditioning.
Turning Toward the Light
Turning toward the light feels destabilizing.
Expanding your perspective can feel like you're losing your identity - because you are. The old identity, the one built in the cave, has to dissolve.
That's the threshold I now help women walk through.
Freedom can feel disorienting. Expansion can feel threatening. Identity dissolution feels like death.
That's what burnout felt like for me. It wasn't just exhaustion. It was the moment I realized the shadows weren't the whole truth. And once you see that, you can't unsee it.
Why I Became The Midlife Midwife
I came out of my cave changed… not just healed, but fundamentally transformed.
And I started seeing two things everywhere:
First: Other women were living quietly exhausted in their own cages. I could see it. It was so apparent. And I just wanted to help them step out.
Second: It didn't have to be this way.
This wasn't some universal sentence passed down as punishment. It was an operating system. And operating systems can be updated.
I didn't want to live in a world where:
Burnout was normal
Emotional depletion was expected
Women hit midlife and think, "I guess this is it"
Because it's not. Midlife is not the end. It's a birthing. It's a labor.
What I was experiencing wasn't a breakdown… it was a birth.
You Don't Birth Without Letting the Old Die
Here's the thing about birth: you don't birth a new life without letting the old one die.
I had to release the identity I'd built inside that cave. That whole process rebirthed me.
That's when Energy Den (my business) was born, over 6 years ago now.
And that's when I understood my role: I'm not here to fix women. I'm here to midwife them.
What a Midwife Actually Does
A midwife doesn't create the baby. She doesn't force the timing. She doesn't rescue you from labor.
She stands steady when you think you can't do it.
She reminds you: your body knows how.
She helps you stay when your instinct is to run.
That's my work. That's what I do.
How I Help Women Step Out
I help women:
See the cage they've unknowingly built
Identify the shadows they mistook for reality
Update their operating systems that were inherited, not necessarily chosen
Tolerate the light when expansion feels threatening
We don't stay stuck because we lack vision. We stay stuck because our nervous system is wired to survive the cave. Freedom feels destabilizing at first… and that's not weakness, that's biology.
So we work with the body. We work with identity. We work with perspective.
So you can step out - not in force or rebellion, but in coherence with what you want to create. Living a life you maybe couldn't even dream of while in the cave.
My Quiet Decision
When I started coming out of my own cave, I made a quiet decision:
I will not live like this. And I don't want others to live like this.
I don't want burnout to be a rite of passage.
I don't want quiet resentment to be normal.
I don't want women who carry entire systems on their backs to believe that crumbs are enough.
Because midlife is not a crisis. It's an initiation.
I became The Midlife Midwife because I lived it first. I walked out of my own cave. And now I walk with others while they walk out of theirs.
Is This For You?
If something in this story resonates - not just mentally, but in your body - pay attention.
If you feel that restless knowing that "this can't be it"...
If you're starting to see the bars of your own cage...
If you're ready to admit that the shadows aren't enough anymore...
Let's talk. Let's have a conversation, human to human.
Sometimes the bravest thing isn't running flat-out toward the sun. It's admitting that the shadows aren't enough anymore.
If you're in that space, I'm here. This is what I do.
Book a tea with me here: https://energy-denappointments.as.me/Teatime
Allison Taylor is The Midlife Midwife, helping women navigate the initiation of midlife through nervous system work, identity evolution, and embodied transformation. Connect with her to explore what's possible beyond the cave.
