Sixty is a Myth

My fifties brought me to my knees. Repeatedly.

And I don’t feel like I was warned adequately. I am not quite sure who I think should have warned me. Regardless, no one did.

I want to be that person for you.

Going into my fifties, I felt like my life was in a pretty good place. I was stable. My family and friend relationships were strong. I had lived and practiced law in the same community for twenty-three years.

My parents were my best friends. We had wonderful routines that we shared together. Weekly dinners, once a week breakfasts, coffees, getting my nails done with my mom….

I was proud of the way that I had come through my divorce and the work I had done on me. After some attempts in the dating world, I was content with being alone.

I was fit and active and a long-time vegetarian. Weight control had not been an issue for me since I was a kid.

And then the things that happen to us women in our fifties joined forces and hit me in the face with a cast iron skillet.

Granted, there were some very good things that happened to me in my fifties. Namely, my husband Bruce and our marriage. More about that at a later time.

I left my home to be with Bruce, and retired from my job. Yes, being able to retire was a luxury. It also resulted in me losing my identity of 25 years. I moved myself and three senior animals across country. I moved my parents, their dog, their bird and their tortoise across country to live near Bruce and me.

So that is three people, two dogs, two cats, a bird and a damn tortoise that have left their home and knew NO ONE.

The pandemic hit.

Over the next three years, my parents’ health declined rapidly. And in different directions. I was with them every day and every step – and I am eternally grateful that I was able to be there. As my parents’ illnesses progressed, their dog died, and I had to re-home their bird and their tortoise.

And then the most painful event of my life occurred. I lost my best friends as my parents died. Within five weeks of each other.

During this period of time, I noticed physical changes. It seemed that my metabolism slowed. I had to be much more mindful about eating or my clothes wouldn’t fit. I got intense hot flashes out of nowhere. I felt like my skin crawled at times. A good night’s sleep was impossible to achieve.

My emotions, which were already being pulled in all directions because of everything else going on in my life, were magnified.

I was in such a whirlwind of all of these other changes going on around me that it truly didn’t occur to me that I was going through menopause.

The important realization here is that my situation is not unique. Many of you are approaching this cyclone of events – with perhaps even more pressures. I want you to be ready.

It helped that I started from a place of balance and strength.

I survived the maelstrom and am stronger because of it. Did I get through it alone? Hell no. I don’t think I could have. I had my husband, my family and a few dear friends that were my lifelines.

I did some things right.

I had a therapist. This was key. I knew I needed help as everything that was stable in my life was crumbling. I felt that I had no solid surfaces to stand on.

I also missed some things.

Your fifties may ask you to absorb an astonishing amount of change at exactly the moment your own body begins changing too. And you may not recognize any of it while you’re standing in the middle of it.

It may bring you to your knees. It brought me to mine. But I got back up.

You have been warned.