I went on a date.
Okay, perhaps I should back up a bit.
My life has changed.
In the last 18 months, I’ve gone through a divorce, a move, the discovery of a very present but stable brain aneurism and the death of my brother.
Because I write about what’s happening in my daily life, it’s only natural and necessary for me to fill you in on a few other changes that are taking place. I hope you will continue to read as I share stories of where I’m at– at the moment.
And right now, I am standing half-naked with my head in the freezer.
I’ve heard women talk about it. Even read a bit about it. But for some reason I NEVER ever thought IT would happen to me!
(And for the male readers – stick with me – your wives or girlfriends are gonna be here one day, and this might provide a little insight!)
In just a matter of days I have gone from the occasional cozy-warm flush feeling to daily hot flashes, night sweats, sleepless nights, crazy dreams and hours spent crying over animal videos on Facebook. It’s not pretty. In fact, it’s downright ugly, as I’m sure those of you who have gone through it will attest too. And, I sincerely apologize to the hundreds of women in my lifetime who said something to me about their menopausal state and I shrugged you off like it was all in your head. I’m lining this right up with back pain and contractions. If you’ve never had it, you can’t even begin to understand it. So, I am sorry if I didn’t give you the empathy you deserved. Because God knows I need empathy!
And speaking of God, what the hell was He thinking?
“For you woman, I’ve got the following rights of passages; menstruation, labor and let’s top it all off, late in life when you’re tired and flabby, with a nice dose of menopause!”
So, as I mentioned, I went on a date.
What do dating and menopause have in common you might ask?
Nor should they!
And yet, five minutes before I’m leaving on a date, I’m standing with my head in my freezer. The freezer is packed-full of James’ pancakes. Which I first think about eating, then I realize that they make great neck-coolers. I even contemplate stuffing a couple down my shirt for the drive.
Dating is a good learning tool for me right now. One of the first things I’ve
realized is that it feels good to get dressed up again. When you’re in a long-term marriage, or suffer from depression, it’s easy to not care so much about what you look like. Your sweats and yoga pants become your best friends and the ponytail is the way you ‘do your hair.’ The guy stops holding the door open for his wife and date night turns into popcorn and Netflix’s. (Which is not necessarily a bad date night, if you’re watching Bloodline and not still in your yoga pants.)
So, recently I was getting ready for a date. I’m standing in front of the mirror agonizing over two pair of earrings, trying to figure out which ones would make me look thinner, since I’m wearing clothes from the menopausal-chubby-bloated end of the closet. At that moment,
James comes downstairs. He stops and looks me up and down and up again. And then, in a long drawn out gravelly voice he utters, “Whoooooa!”
(Insert ten year’s worth of images of me sitting in my robe with no make-up on. Had he never seen me “done up”?) I imagined if he could speak, he might have continued, “You clean up good Bobby! I had no idea you had real clothes and real long blond hair.” I would have answered, “Yes James, mommy’s clothes are real.”
The date was lovely. He held open every door and took me for a great meal, which I could hardly eat because I was so nervous.
I spent the entire night talking about James. This may or may not have been a turn off? Or maybe it was my upper lip sweat? Hard to tell.
So much to learn! I ate a half-thawed pancake on my way home. He hasn’t called.