Menopause is not a joke
Let me paint a portrait for you.
Nashville had its first “blizzard” of the year yesterday, going from 65 degrees to 23 degrees in just 24 hours. The cold winter day turned into a night full of ice and snow. It was windy and cold.
I was getting ready for bed, and the last thing I do is go over to the thermostat and turn it on. I don’t turn on the heat like one would expect on a night when you’re looking out the window, and it’s like everything looks like glass. No, I turn on the air conditioning, like I do every time. unique. night. I lower it to 60 degrees because… menopause.
But last night I decided to give Old Man Winter the reins and let him cool off my bedroom, so I opened the window by the head of my bed. I didn’t open it like it was a 65 degree, sunny, spring day, I opened it like it was a 23 degree and instantly hit you in the face with the most glorious cold air. As I got into bed, the wind howling through the window, I had just opened, my husband entered the room. He just looked at me and before getting into bed, he put on some sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt and got into bed. I smiled at him, kissed his head, and we both apologized and thanked him for being so understanding. As I turned around to turn off the light and grab my earplugs, the icy air hit me in the face once more, and when I grabbed my earplugs, I noticed they were a bit frozen. I was worried that this might not be a good idea.
Fast forward to a few hours later where I woke up from a dream. In this dream, I was 30 years old and someone invited me to dinner. I was so excited in this dream, and when I wake up a bit more, I realize that it’s not just a dream, but I’m lying on top of all the blankets, wind howling outside, icicles on my window INSIDE. My husband is fast asleep in sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt on the couch!
Now it was 2 am and I was wide awake, like I made the coffee wide awake and lay in bed and thought for a moment. Until that very moment, he was fine with being a few days shy of his 51st birthday. She was fine with having raised two reasonably well-adjusted children. I was adjusting well to my “golden years”. That was until that stupid dream, and I was 30 years old again. I sat and thought about that dream and decided there was no way Gina was actually 30 years old. In this dream, this Gina had her life in order when real-life 30-year-old Gina was a bit of a train wreck. Gina, 30, was a single mother with a 3-year-old and a 4-year-old son, two jobs, barely making ends meet, and a love life that was questionable at best.
When the hot flash passed, I walked into the living room and grabbed my husband, my husband, if he had a hat and gloves I’m sure he would wear them, and brought him back to bed. I lay back on the blankets and listened to the combination of howling wind and my husband’s snoring and wondered if this was what a midlife crisis would feel like. Realizing that he was almost 51 years old and not 30 was unexpectedly sad for me. The only thought he had was that he had lived through most of my years and was on the downward slope of life.
I crawled under the covers, turned my pillow to the cold side, and as a small tear of ice froze on my cheek, I thought, it’s going to be okay.
