motor on

For those of you in the midst of the mysterious throes of menopause, I offer my sympathy. At 55, I understand. While there are those that tout the benefits of women being older and wiser, I believe they should also understand that the transition to this new way of being takes some time.

Do you remember learning to swim when you were a child? In summer pools, anxious and full of energy, you pulled an inflated tube around your waist and kicked wildly? It didn’t seem to bother us as children that this ring circled our middle. It kept us buoyant and safe. Life was good. Happily – we motored on.

I thought of this the other day as I crawled behind the wheel of my car. I was suddenly aware that my body had changed. Significantly. A newly grown tire was sitting around my middle and this time, I couldn’t take it off. I wondered how the new appendage could have grown in such a short period of time. It didn’t look like me and it surely didn’t feel like me. I had always been a girl with a waistline. And now, I had the sit-down shape of a cylinder.

While riding in my car each day continues to remind me of my menopausal condition, I’m trying to get comfortable with the new me. I’ve discovered that much like swimming as a child, all I can do is – motor on.

©2007