Women are an extraordinary tribe of humans. We have a way of carrying on when various trials arise. We solve those problems. Not only are we quick-thinkers on our feet, but when called to action, we deliver and try to move on. We have a kind of power in our tribe no man can match. True, men-folk are also powerful creatures in other ways, but as a woman, I know I couldn’t survive without my tribe of ladies. It’s a true gift. We should treat it as such, being grateful and banding together during the tough times. We need our tribes because as a tribe of women, we can grow a human and make it go from inside our bodies to breathing air and surviving outside the womb. Pretty extraordinary. The downside to this gift? Hormones! Try as we might, we cannot escape them. So here I am, scratching my head as Puberty 2.0, also known as menopause, rears her ugly head. I’m left with the question, “Who is this alien who has taken over my body?”
What Sort of Fresh Hell Was This?
One dark and cold morning, I dragged myself out of bed to practically crawl to my car. I feed my neighbors’ horse and donkeys every day, so I had critters waiting for breakfast and I couldn’t disappoint. Sleeplessness seemed to have taken over lately. For some reason, my usual well-slept nights turned into waking up for no reason whatsoever, smack dab in the middle of the night. As I contemplate my current sleepless situation, a furnace from within my body kicks on and my insides start baking. My mind then raced over the usual things I needed to do as well as more things to stress me out. As I went through the motions of feeding in the barn that morning, it occurred to me that I much preferred the animals’ company to any human interaction at the moment. Suddenly, I found myself having a full-on conversation with a mare who eyed me curiously as she munched her hay. It was at that moment I realized I’d need to go back to bed when I got back home.
Once home, I shed my barn clothes and crawled blissfully under the covers. I wanted to cry for no reason whatsoever. Stubbornly, I lay there, willing sleep to come. I had zero motivation for anything. The back of my skull hurt for some reason. I closed my eyes, kept them closed out of spite, and realized, “This is what it feels like to be depressed.” After saying a little prayer to those who suffer from it every day I realized that I didn’t want to feel like that anymore. I also realized I needed to somehow get through this turbulent journey with as much ease as possible. But how in the world was I going to do that? My poor husband didn’t even know what to do, as he likes to fix things. How do you help a blubbering woman who just scolded her unsuspecting husband for no reason whatsoever?
The Meno-Monster Rears Her Ugly Head
So I spent the day weeping, not sleeping, and fretting over my possible brain tumor. I lost count of how many times the inner furnace kicked in. I’d had a hot flash once, I thought, during my second pregnancy. I didn’t think much of it until my very own personal tropical vacations became more and more frequent. While I researched menopause, knowing full well I could not believe everything I read, I asked my neighbor what in God’s name was happening. After signing the cross in my direction, she reassured me that it was, in fact, hot flashes. Also, she said, “Good luck with that” as she kept away from me. So I went home, scolded my confused husband for something, and went back to bed. My daughter tentatively brought me tea, which got me researching remedies for this “meno-monster.”
After being hot so many times, I started freezing. A hot bath was a remedy I had read, so I prepared a beautiful bubbly bath with eucalyptus to soothe my aching joints. I thought how I was suddenly an old lady as I sunk into the hot water. After sitting there for a minute and contemplating the rolls in my stomach, I reveled in my age spots and then realized I was sweating. So now the dilemma was do I go back to bed and let the water cool down for later? Do I want to get out, go back to bed, and waste a good bath?
I decided to just go back to bed. I may have cried first, I don’t know. So I tried some soothing music. It may have helped, but I realized I was hungry but had no desire to eat. The thoughts of various foods to eat took up an hour or so, as I contemplated my next move. I decided I needed to sit and stare off, so I decided to do that outside. It helped, as fresh air cures a lot for me.
CLICK HERE TO READ ACTUAL TEXTS THAT KEPT ME SANE
The Trials of My Tribe: Actual Texts Among Friends
After reading about menopause and making a grocery list of all the foods I should eat to help with inflammation, sleep aids, mood stabilizers, and overall “feel better-ness,” I decided counseling was another option for coping. So I decided to text my Tribe. Not only did I grow up with most of these ladies, but we happened to go through Puberty 1.0 together. Not that we realized it. To this day, no other tribe of women makes me laugh like they do. If anyone could understand the horrors of hormones, it would be these fine ladies who are my age.
Once I read through the texts of my dear friends, I realized I wasn’t alone. We are a tiny community of friends turned wives turned moms. Fellow moms know how important their tribes are. We lift each other and send digital hugs when needed while also sharing personal successes and pictures of our children as we brag about them. We send ridiculous memes that have me ugly-laughing uncontrollably as Husband glances sideways at me. There is a sort of weight lifted when you understand you are not the only one going through stuff. Thus, the necessity of my tribe of women.
After hiding all day in my bed and learning I wasn’t the only sole menopause disaster magnet, I started to have a new outlook. Once I was validated, I slowly began to realize I wasn’t losing my mind. Well, maybe I was, but I wasn’t doing it by myself. I gladly began to learn from others’ experiences. During one of my sleepless nights, I wrote down ideas and started to write a journal. I called my mom, to see what hereditary menopausal delights to look forward to as I researched more remedies for relief. Eventually, I received recommendations for vitamins, foods, and products that were supposed to help my poor confused body. I asked Husband for his credit card and a hug and started ordering.
My Connected Tribe: Aging Like a Fine Wine
Now, I’m happy to say, I didn’t die of menopause. I started changing things in my diet and went for walks. I take things that help with my sore joints and sleepless nights and practice yoga and self-care. Not only do I not apologize for a lack of showering and wearing the same sweatshirt for days in a row, but I also don’t apologize for taking an extra long shower, where I do my best thinking. I drink herbal tea and breathe in the Texas hill country fresh air.
I started trying new products to help me age gracefully. Not only do my skin and hair have some hope, but I also feel better. I’m not dragged out of bed every day, and I’m sleeping through the night thanks to this amazing find! I am learning how to cook healthy foods more, look for more recipes, and I keep playing the music that makes me happy. If you know me, I thoroughly enjoy cooking while listening to music, especially when Husband is playing guitar for me. I cook and sing along. It’s my zen.
I started documenting things. As a teacher, I got used to doing this, so I decided to write down my feelings, symptoms, and woes of menopause. Not only did it help me, as writing always does, but it made me realize again how funny my friends are. Their texts are a constant source of entertainment for me. We all live in different states, but our connection continues to enchant me daily. I like that even though I don’t get to see them, they are always there. My love for this beautiful tribe of ladies constantly bridges our “young and perky” days to our “getting older and gravity is winning” days. Even when my body is saying, “Nope!” these ladies make me feel young at heart. I still remember how it feels to be a teenager.
Now those teenage feelings are coming back around but in an all-grown-up way.
Puberty 2.0 has its hold and all we can do is go through it. Thankfully, because of the internet, there is a tribe of women who have had experiences they are willing to share. They have had hormone problems and they are willing to share their solutions. When we know better, we do better, so in a time of need, we find the answers to our burning questions about menopause: Will this last long? Will I ever be able to feel myself again? Will my husband dump me off in the middle of nowhere just to acquire a little peace? God only knows.
My advice? Take in others’ experiences. Try what they’ve tried (or don’t) and see what works for you. Share what works and pay it forward. As women, we have enough uphill battles to climb and we need each other as allies. In the meantime, we need to stay connected and embrace our experiences so we can teach those lessons to those who need them. I am always grateful for my friends’ crazy experiences. Sometimes their downward days make me feel upward. Not that I can’t empathize with those dark days of being a wife/mama/friend/whatever, but I can learn from their mishaps and victories and try a different way for myself. We can laugh our way through those dark times when we have each other.
Embrace Your Womanhood
Be proud of who you are, ladies! Practice self-care and do what makes you happy. When I started trying these amazing products for my health, hot flashes disappeared, I felt better, sleep better, and my energy was back. Remember you are part of a special community that knows exactly what you are going through: some who are starting, some in the thick of it, and some who made it to the other side to tell about it. Ask for help when you need it. You’ve got a tribe to back you. Don’t be afraid to feel the feels, even when they just don’t make sense. Write it down and crank the music. Sing your heart out in a hot shower if you must. Just be kind to yourself and cut yourself some slack. If you’d gladly do it for another woman in the tribe, then you should do it for YOU first.
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