Between Stories: The Stranger in the Mirror
On menopause, the quiet house, and the morning you catch yourself in the mirror and ask: wait, is that me?
A few years ago I was getting ready to give a talk to a group of women in philanthropy. I had on a beautiful jacket. Loved it.
I stepped up to the front of the room, thanked everyone for having me, and before I started I asked the group a question. Do you like my jacket?
They looked at me a little sideways. But yes, of course, they liked it.
Oh good. I'm glad. I checked my watch. Because in about ten minutes, I'm pretty sure it's coming off.
Big laugh. The room went easy. And about fifteen minutes in, when the jacket did come off, every woman in the audience chuckled in recognition.
We knew. All of us.
What we knew was that it isn't just the hot flash. It's everything around it.
It's the hot flash in the meeting, the gray hairs at your temples, the joints that creak, the muscle you lose and the fat you gain. The woman you were is disappearing.
Those are the inside challenges. Then there are the outside challenges. It's the promotion you wanted and got, even when people are suggesting you wind down and "enjoy life." It's your son mentioning, casually, that they'll save on daycare since you can babysit twice a week. And it's the part of you that goes still or rages, because everybody assumes, and nobody asks.
You catch yourself in the mirror one morning and think: Wait. Is that me?
Deep down, you already know the answer. You are not going to wake up one morning and feel like the self you were at twenty-five. Or thirty-five, when the kids were small and "hot flashes" were brilliant ideas, not your body becoming your personal combustion engine.
That woman is not coming back. She did her job well, got you here, and her part is done.
And our culture will continue to tell you that as a "mature woman" you are expected to be quiet and compliant. Continue to take care of everyone else, without considering your needs, wants, or interests.
Allow me to introduce you to Now You.
Now You is not a lesser version of Younger You. She is genuinely new. The body is new. The feelings are new. You are not who you were, and that is okay. It might even be wonderful. Getting older is not a pathology. It is a stage of life. You might be dealing with the medical fallout of menopause, but your current humanity is not an illness. You might even find that despite the challenges aging brings, this stage of your life is wonderful and freeing.
It is a chance to ask what now — not with a sigh of resignation, but with openness. As an actual question with an actual answer waiting.
You do not know Now You very well yet, but you know this: even though the world keeps telling you who you are supposed to be at this age, that is not their choice to make. This is your time to discover what Now You wants and needs. Physical, emotional, professional, spiritual. This is your decision, not theirs.
The work is finding out who Now You is and what she wants. The kind of work that takes time, attention, and somebody who knows how to ask the question you have been avoiding or never thought of.
This is what happens if you don't do the work: the wave of other people's expectations carries you. Your son's daycare math becomes your weekly routine. The promotion you wanted gets framed as "still working at your age." The body gets handled with a prescription instead of a conversation. Your life drifts in other people's currents and life happens to you instead of through you.
When you do the work, you decide.
If you would like to talk
If you are reading this and recognize yourself, know this: you do not have to do this work alone.
I offer a complimentary 30-minute discovery call to talk about what is going on and explore whether coaching might be right for you.
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