The Idiosyncrasies and Muses of Menopause
This is about things that could only happen to someone afflicted with the syndrome called Menopause, but then we are the only ones who could care less! Although it sure isn’t how I would have felt even five years ago. And, of course, I never saw this day coming. I’m sure no-one does. You wake-up one day and see yourself a different person, in a different body, and ask, What happened? When did I go?
I muse about my morning hiking, that I don’t bother to wear shorts because, frankly, I don’t care who’s looking anymore, I want to be comfortable; so I wear my very baggie sweat pants and very baggie pullover top, and no make-up, not a pinch. I’m hiking for my health and to be healthy. Sexy is not what I’m aiming for, nor is it now in my husband’s Wives’ Manual. And I carry a big stick, too, but not to beat up would-be attackers—I don’t turn heads anymore, and I can’t remember the last time I got honked at by a passing car. I carry a big stick to fend-off rabid stray dogs without a leash; only they are interested in taking a bite out of me, these days.
And don’t get me started on having nothing to wear, because since becoming menopausal I’ve gained 30 pounds with no difficulty whatsoever. Everything I own I squeeze into, like ground meat stuffed in sausage casing. But my family loves me. I ask them how I look, they give me a-once-over—and then there’s a seconds pause (because I know I saw it!) and they are afraid to hurt my feelings—you look just fine, they finally tell me. Even though my soft love handles, or once-upon-a-time baby fat, now jelly rolls, are oozing out from every possible crease and opening. Do they love me or what?
Now there’s the issue of me and my Lancelot Knight’s private time, those special moments in the sack, or the couch, or the closet, or the shower…who could ever forget those gymnasts’ moves? How we were able to bend…and how long we were able to last…more like a 5-mile marathon. We were like circus acrobats then, energized on Wheaties and two cans of Red Bull!
But today, well, the shower is a dangerous place; we now consider the dangers of falling and getting hurt. The couch is just not comfortable anymore, and the television holds our attention like magnets on the fridge. The closet, well, the floor is too hard on our backs, and it sure takes some acrobatic movements to comfortably fit these days. But the bed, oh, that dear comfortable, soothing and bones relaxing bed—definitely the greatest invention ever. Ever seductive and sleep-inducing, and the moment our heads hit the pillow we are off to dreamland.
I guess there’s always tomorrow, after all. Ahh…!