Menopause Mentoring by Kate Poux
This is my grandma and her sisters in
1954, when they were in their late
40s/early 50s. I admire their easy middle-aged glamour. I am the same age as
they are in the photo. I wish I
could be part of their midlife summer
barbeques. What would they say to me about this time of life? What will I say
to my daughters and nieces and grand daughters 30 years from now? What are they learning right
now by watching me live it?
When my daughter was 3 she would watch me get
out of the shower and get ready for the day, and ask for some of my lotion to
rub on her legs like me. One day as she bent over, going through my same lotion
motions she said, “I do what you do, Mommy.” I am struck by how much she took in as a toddler watching
me, and how much she must notice now as a teenager, sometimes seeking
connection to me and many times doing the hard work of separating from me.
My dad died 28 years ago. I spend November
remembering him, and every year I notice how much more I am like him. This year
I dug through an old box at my mom’s
house and collected photos. He’s the guy at the block parties with a clipboard,
putting up the flags, playing the “head on a table” in the haunted house,
wearing make up for his part in the Kismet chorus, singing real loud in church,
whistling, drinking coffee in the front yard, running with the dog. I live so
much of my life like he did, mostly unaware of this deep subconscious
connection. He doesn’t tell me to do all these things, I just do what he did.
The process of becoming like our parents and
ancestors is deep. As parents and adults in families, we work so hard to keep children safe, healthy, happy. We
make conscious choices in every moment about what to say, do to help them grow,
but all the while they are watching us and becoming like us, without either of
us being really aware of it. I do what you do. How can I live through this time
of menopause in a way that will help it be an easier, fuller time for my
daughters and next generations?
I made a
friend on the Claws in your Pause retreat last year who told us that
every day at work for her is a +5 on her energy meter. She made changes to her
diet a few years ago and feels great, totally reconnected to her body. Being
with her changed me. I want to do what she does. Not literally, of course, but
I want to embrace opportunities, let go of the energy suckers and love my life
like she does. And making it happen for me at this time in my life has an
impact on how the young women around me will feel about menopause, now and maybe
later.
It’s kind of a lot of pressure to figure it
out. Especially on days like today when I pretend to be sick and hide in my
bedroom so I don’t have to deal with anyone. This last photo is my daughter
around the same age when she used to imitate my showering routine. She’s making
a banana phone call. Wouldn’t it be so much easier if banana phones could call
back and forth through time, connect past and future generations? She could
just call present-me 30 years in the future and say WTF about all this
menopause bullshit, Mom! Oona, if you’re still there…
...notice changes in energy, mood, confidence,
hair falling out, temper, libido,
weight, heart palpitations in your 40s, open up a dialogue about it with your
family, friends, doctor. Track your symptoms, write them down. Keep a timeline.
You are not crazy.
… notice what gives you energy, and what
depletes it, and practice letting go of the things that don’t bring you joy or
energy. Observe how much more decisive
you feel. Reconnect with your intuition.
… find the nearest chapter of Put Some Claws
in Your Pause and tell them Mommy sent you. Bond with people about menopause.
Say it out loud, often. It’s a comforting, inspiring connection, to find out
how other women are handling it or not handling it, how we can learn from each
other and shed the shame.
