I feel like I should issue a spoiler alert. To all my young friends, I’m going to throw down a bit about middle age. If you don’t want to know what’s coming, proceed with caution. I’ve been thinking about middle age and all the “joy” that comes with it, particularly menopause. I’ve heard menopause described as a “rite of passage.” Wondering if that could really be true, I decided to look up what that actually means.
Rites of passage have a beginning, a middle, and an end. So let’s think about it for a minute…yep, perimenopause, then you’re in the thick of it, and I’ve heard afterwards you move into a new phase. So, yeah, it does sound like a rite of passage. And it’s something all women go through one way or another. Truthfully, men go through it too, alongside the women in their lives and they have their own rites of passage.
So if it’s a nature process of life, I wonder why it’s so hard? At least it’s hard for me and my friends in the same boat. As I think about it, the hard part is all the physical symptoms that seem impossible to control. I did not ask for whiskers to randomly sprout from my chin; or for the hot flashes that make sleep elusive; or, let’s get honest, the uncontrollable weight gain – I think they call it the middle age spread. Let me just say…I am not amused.
But I’m wondering if there’s a different way to look at all this. The truth is, it’s inevitable. No woman can escape it. Some have fewer symptoms or are propelled into it, but we all go through it. I haven’t even mentioned the emotions that go with it, but they can be extreme. My husband can attest to the crying that came with the early stages for me.  Where is all that coming from???
What if, instead of fighting it, or resenting it, we embraced it? Leaned in to it. Accepted the fact that our bodies are changing rather than being angry about it? Accept that we have no control over it…that is a big issue. As women, we’re used to having a lot of control over what’s happening in our lives. We have taken care of our homes, our families, jobs…juggled our hobbies and things that bring us joy…for the majority of our lives. This should be something we’ve got covered. We (and I include me in that), want to continue controlling our bodies…and we can’t.
We accuse, we blame, we fight our own bodies. And we’re tired. What if you tried to hold off a car rolling down a hill? You likely wouldn’t be successful and you’d get rolled over in the process. If you just stepped aside and accepted what was going to happen you’d save a lot of blood, sweat and tears. It’s the same thing with menopause. Our bodies want to be loved and we’re the primary person to do that. We may have grown humans in our bodies, climbed mountains, risen in our careers – whether in or out of the house. We have put our arms around others to comfort them, loved on others…but we’re failing to do that for ourselves. We fight what we need and it’s a fight against ourselves.
So if we’re in the midst of a rite of passage, why don’t we lean in? Accept what’s happening. The struggles we might be facing in the midst of the transition are ones we’re bringing on ourselves. Stop the battle. We need to love ourselves, our bodies and not abandon them during this time of transition. Know that this process is taking us to another phase in our lives.
If you’ve stuck through this post and are not in this phase, I encourage you to look at what you may be going through in life. Are you fighting an unnecessary battle? What do you really need right now? Listen to yourself, your body, your inner voice and follow it. Today, let’s choose to love ourselves as we are. We’re here for a reason…lean in to learn what that reason is. Be brave.
Ever had that conversation that you knew you needed to have but you were avoiding it? Maybe with a spouse, a close friend, a family member? Yeah, me too. What happens is that instead of having the conversation, I create a story in my head about the other person’s motives, what they must be thinking, or the why behind what they’re doing. I create their side of the story without giving them a chance to chime in. And, invariably, my story is far worse than what is actually happening.
How often do you have someone in your life say, “just listen to me.” Maybe they yell it at you, or maybe you’re the one saying it. With all the space I’m making in my life, to just be, to rest, to be creative, I’ve noticed that I’m hearing that phrase more often. Not from anybody else, but from my own body. I’m not kidding. When I slowed down enough to pay attention, I started noticing what my body was feeling, what it said to me.
This weekend we drove to Bakersfield to visit my mother-in-law. Long, long holiday weekend drive. You know the kind. Crazy insane traffic, people everywhere, cars everywhere. At some point you just want to tell someone to stay in their lane. To relax, I like to listen to podcasts. I’ve recently started listening to Oprah’s Super Soul podcasts, love them, and one of many I played on that drive was Oprah talking to Joel Olsteen.
I was at a women’s conference yesterday, Christine Caine’s Propel Activate Conference. It was a fire hose of a day with amazing speakers throughout. As always, my brain wanders in many different directions and by the time we nearing the end, I had a lot of ideas on the brink of happening. Lisa Harper was the last speaker and she was the perfect choice because she used humor with her message which kept me engaged at the end of a long day.
My air conditioning has been working marginally, if at all, for two months. During a summer with a record number of days over 90 degrees, many over 100. And now, our water heater is leaking. Yesterday, in the midst of house failures, the heat and a long afternoon, I told my husband I thought we should come up with a name for the summer, like newscasters do around hurricanes, or natural weather events. Like…Summer of living on the sun…or the even more charming…summer in a fiery cauldron.
I was at a workshop the other day for work and the day started with some light team building. No problem, I was thinking. I’m all over this. First question… think about a time when… and that was it… checkmate. Anytime I’m asked to remember a time, or remember when, it’s a ride on the struggle bus. My kids often ask me obscure things like, “Mom, remember that time when I went shopping with you and you hit me when you found that purse you liked?” Ok, that one I do remember, in my excitement over finding an adorable purse, I hit him. As in “oooh, oooh, look at this purse!!” Ladies, can I get a nod on that one, I mean, it was a purse. But other things like, that time at the pool, or that time we were in the car and you asked us [insert whatever random fact you can think of], those things I struggle to remember.
Uncertainty, it’s a word that makes my stomach tie up a nice little knot. Not a fan. I’ve lived most of my life trying to eliminate uncertainty. I always have a plan B. I take the low risk route so that there’s little danger of failing. I research, I plan, I practice, I eliminate the uncertainty. Because I don’t like being in a space of not knowing what could happen. I have a fear about it.