Skip to main content

Menopause

I am in menopause.

I am at my beginning. Again, I have come of age.

We all do it. We all do it differently – hormone replacement therapy; hot flashes; loss of sex drive; increased sex drive; the tragedy of new facial hair; fear of bone loss; antidepressants – and none of us know what will come next. Very few of us share our secrets. I have spent the last few years discussing these issues with girlfriends. We have shocked and surprised each other as well as found comfort in some of our common stories.

After years of being single and keeping my eyes on nothing but my career, it was clearly time to take control of myself and my body. I had just gone through a record emotional dry spell. I felt very alone, but imagined that I was not in a place so different than other women. Women in the workplace spend years losing themselves in order to gain advancement that, even if it does come, won’t be as satisfying as they thought. It is that time in your late thirties, often through your forties, that men take second place to career and either don’t notice you or assume that you must be a lesbian because you haven’t noticed them. It is the time that women gain reputations in the workplace for being a bitch.

Don’t get me wrong, we can be bitches during this time. However, it is really that we are misunderstood. In spite of the fact that our bodies and minds are going through a change no man can ever comprehend, we remain relatively level-headed and make incredibly sound decisions. We simply will not do it with the same compassionate and loving smile we had in our twenties. We can no longer tolerate the expectation that we will relinquish credit for a job well done.

Every woman should know that the dry spell is over when you release yourself and allow yourself to say the M word. With or without the big job; with or without a loving partner in your life; with or without personal wealth, it happens – menopause.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Oh gawd, the facial hair. I look like I'm harboring a small animal under my chins. I try to look on the bright side by telling myself I'll never freeze to death with all this fur I seem to be growing, but I'm so tired of it.

Tired of plucking, waxing, shaving, ignoring, and staring at my beard.

And, according to my doctor, I'm not yet in menopause, or even perimenopause. Pray tell, if it isn't that, then just who is responsible for these damn hotflashes and chin hairs???
Unknown said…
O the joys of aging.... Perhaps it is part of some master plan that wrinkles and a beard would be sexy in old age.
Anonymous said…
I haven't had too many signs of it yet, but I am encouraged by all the women who are going before me. Thanks!
Boatwoman said…
What a joy to find a blog on the menopause. I am now going through it and deep joy NOT. I have not gone onto any HRT yet, going to suck it and see. The lack of sex drive is getting to me though arghhhhhhhhh.
Nice blog thank you for being here.
Unknown said…
Boatwoman - I'm so glad you found me. I've still not gone to HRT... made it through the crying and the hotflashes. Work on that sex drive.... I found it stopped the flashing ;-)

Popular posts from this blog

On The Radio

I often find myself sitting on the subway holding my book, not really reading, but watching what everyone is up to around me. Today I hoped no one was watching me. I left my office around four-thirty scurrying like a rat to get to my five o’clock appointment. I was busy today, but not so busy I couldn’t have left a few minutes earlier. There was no reason for me to be flying down the street grousing at the people who weren’t walking quite as fast as I was on my way to the subway. I ran down the stairs and slid my MetroCard through the turnstile just as the uptown 1 Train pulled into the station. The train was crowded, but I managed to get a seat. I should have been embarrassed as I rolled my eyes because the woman next to me took up a little more space than the plastic molded seats allowed. At the 96th Street station a tired-looking woman entered my subway car. She was probably ten years younger than I and looked five years older. Her expression was flat; the look of a woman

How Do You Decide Whom To Marry?

OK… I admit that these kid quotes have been ‘borrowed’ ;-) A friend sent these sage words in an e-mail this evening. As I read it a flood of memories raced through my mind ranging from my own recent dating exploits to Art Linkletter’s Kids Say the Darndest Things. If you’re too young to remember Mr. Linkletter’s House Party, take a moment to watch this fabulous YouTube clip. You won’t regret giving up the seven minutes and thirteen seconds of your life. These kids are hysterical… How do you decide whom to marry? You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming. -- Alan, age 10 No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with.... -- Kristen, age 10 What is the right age to get married? Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by the