Charmaine Daisley intends to experience hot flashes in style, with flair, and in stride. Photo: Marcus Gonzales
I’ve
been going through a period lately that I can only describe as
“excruciatingly exhilarating;” an oxymoron if I have ever heard one,
but so intrinsically true to my latest life experience. In fact, to
describe it as a “period” may be somewhat of a fallacy, a little
misleading to what the true nature of my experience entails. It’s more
like nearing the cessation of “my period,” and the beginning of the next
phase of my life—my next rite of passage as a woman. In a few weeks I
will celebrate my 45th year as a child of this Universe. That in itself
is a milestone achievement. I have lived for two score and some, and
survived to tell the tale.
I have had
the pleasure of conceiving a child, the pain of bringing her into this
plain, and the privilege of bringing her up to be the beautiful,
well-rounded individual that she is today. I have borne the immense
burden of a potentially debilitating illness, not knowing for years that
it even existed within my “self.” Discovering that it was a part of who
I am at the core, and learning to manage it through the years has
turned out to be an adventure that I will never regret, no matter how
familiar my feet became with the terrain of Hades at times. For there
were also the mountaintop experiences.
I have
achieved success in my career—winning several international creative
awards—and more so, the trust of employers and contractors as a
brilliant mind that can deliver sharp, cutting-edge marketing and
reading material, on time.
I have
thrown caution to the wind and followed my dream—taking all of my
savings (and some of a friend’s) and investing it in a coffee shop that
met my dream of a quieter life —but not the requirement of the necessary
noisy dollars to keep the coffee brewing. My shop closed after one
year. And so, I suffered loss and disappointment. I have written several
children’s books, self-published one, and marketed it with a great
measure of satisfaction. I am currently writing a romance novel—if only I
can find the time to complete it between the demands of life, and work,
and headaches, and intermittent diarrhoea, and hot flashes!
Yes,
my new “period,” like I said, is more like the ending of “my period”—I’m
smack in the middle of pre-menopause. Most days I forget that I’m at
this juncture of my life, and am usually jolted to the reality of my
situation by intensely hot ears, calves, arms, neck, and hands, or
sometimes by a racing heartbeat.
At
times, by a sudden headache. I’ve also gained weight. Other symptoms are
occurring, too—some too private to convey in black and white.
Menopause
has been traditionally viewed as a period of shame for a woman—the time
when she has lost all her usefulness and is essentially winding down,
getting ready to rock her way to the grave. At this time in her life,
when a woman perhaps needs the most support, she is ridiculed and
spurned. The disparaging “crone” or “old hag” replaces her previous
identity and honourable status of “woman.” Today, although things are
changing slowly, there is still the debasing, deriding statements, the
smirks and reference to depleting “usefulness,” and there is still
ridicule of a woman who is evidently distressed by night sweats and hot
flashes.
There is more need for men—and
some younger women too—to wake up to the reality that this woman’s rite
is a woman’s right! Not to be denied her; hers to enjoy. Acceptance and
empathy or not, I intend to experience my hot flashes in style, with
flair, in stride, and safe in the knowledge and power that I am now able
to press pause! And that’s the true value of menopause—the privilege of
gracefully surrendering all the things that marked the period of active
productivity, and embracing a period of quiet production of a personal
product that is in sync with the Universe and its Maker. This is the
time to press pause, sisters. Where’s the shame in that? Where’s the
shame in having less or no office days? Where’s the shame in writing
your memoirs that could one day touch the world? Where’s the shame in
enjoying children without the anxiety and pressure of breastfeeding,
dirty diapers, SEA, CXC, or college grades?
Where’s
the shame in having the time to listen to all the Frank Sinatra and
Sparrow songs your ears can stand? Where’s the shame in making love
slowly? Where’s the shame in having the time to take better care of you,
meditating and exercising more, eating better, dressing sensibly, and
growing wiser with every passing day? Excruciatingly exhilarating!
BY CHARMAINE DAISLEY - Published in the Trinidad Guardian Online Newspaper: Mon, 2011-01-10 18:05. See link below.
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