Tag: menopause

blogging about life as I know it
NaBloPoMo, getting old, sleep, Age, writing

10 Ways to Know You Are a “Woman of a Certain Age”

littleshoeprincess

There you are, cruising along in your early 40s, things are looking pretty good.

You’re at the top of your career.
You’re getting a solid 8 hours of sleep a night.
You jump at the chance to go out to dinner at 9pm.

And then, something shifts. It’s subtle at first. Until one day you wake up – slowly, you seem to have hurt your back somehow while sleeping – and you are more barely surviving than young and thriving.

As someone who still believes that 1990 was twenty years ago, this transition was grueling. I felt like a stranger in my own body. I was restless. And slightly ragey.

Here are the 10 ways to know if you’ve become a “woman of a certain age”. Which is a polite way of saying: Girl, you old.

  1. Grandma hobbies. You become acutely aware of extracurriculars, with a sudden interested in mahjong, pickleball, or knitting.
  2. Book clubs. You want one, preferably with wine and no drama.
  3. 6pm is the new 8pm dinner reservation. Home in jammies by 9pm.
  4. Exercising the word “no”. You have never felt more librated saying no to people, to plans, to dumb ideas. (Without giving a reason!)
  5. Oh, the creams and ointments! Your social feed is one continuous ad for moisturizers for crow’s feet and crepey neck skin.
  6. You’re the protein police. You will never have enough. Ever.
  7. Wide awake at 3am. You used to be really good at sleeping but now it eludes you.
  8. Caring for kids AND parents.
  9. A squishy middle.
  10. You just want to retire to a beach house and read, drink wine, and eat good food. (This one may be just me)

How am I the same person who used to START TO GET READY TO GO OUT at 9pm? Dress in my jeans and nice top while pre-gaming cheap beer. Forgo a coat in 27 degree weather. Stand in line to get in, only to stand in line at the bar. Humid air, sticky floors. And then a nebulous way to get home after you couldn’t flag a cab for 30 minutes at 2am. (Sometimes getting in cars with almost strangers to get home – wait, did we actually invent Uber before Uber did?)

Just writing that paragraph made me exhausted. Because girl, I AM old.