When Life Brings a Change...
"I got an attitude, and I ain't talking to you... Only if the shoe fits. Well..."
PMS | Mary J. Blige
I've been wanting to write about this for a long ass time. But didn't have the words. Or maybe I forgot them. Because that's the shit that happens when one begins the puberty of mid-life... The season when women pretty much get sick of everyone's shit and are more than likely to divorce/leave/murder their tired ass significant other. It's that time when a woman really comes into her own and owns that shit. She don't need (and most likely don't want) another soul around her to be in good company - because she is good company and man, fuck all of y'all!* She ain't about the bullshit - the giving and/or receiving of it. And if she pisses someone off (as she most assuredly will) and they tell her to go to hell, she will recall her last hot flash and smile wistfully at the idea of a cool down. This chick is free. Unless she happens to fuck around and get knocked up... Because that shit (and by shit, I mean unplanned pregnancy), is up there with those who cannot yet buy alcohol. Or vote, for that matter....
In case you're not following, I'm talking about Perimenopause. Yes. Peri-fucking-men-o-pause. When the number of reproductive eggs a woman was born with begin to dwindle - which scientists have confirmed directly correlate to the number of actual fucks she has left to give for the rest of her life.** It's that time when those same hormones (albeit, traveling in a different direction) that made every girl hate her mother, makes a woman hate nearly everyone. A reverse puberty, of sorts. Except. There's no awkward class to sit through with embarrassed other women, and giggling immature men, as someone who's never experienced said change of life, tells you about all the things that's gonna happen to your body. But there should be. Or something...
Because we. don't. talk. about. this. shit. Seriously, ladies. We don't. While I was quite proud of turning 40 just a year and a lot of change ago, I had no idea that in no time at all, I'd be playing hide and seek with my monthly cycle. Or that I'd suddenly develop one of those things my mom used to call her 'private summer.' But not just once. Nooooohooo. All the damn time. Morning. Noon. And my favorite - the middle of the goddamn night. And those mood swings... Chile. This ain't yo average 13 year old's mood swing. Screaming on folk? Nah. Ain't nobody got time for screaming. Shit, we snap! These jokers should be called mood amusement parks. Where everything happens everywhere at once. You find yourself absolutely overjoyed and pissed the fuck off - at the same exact time. And unwilling as you are to choose sides at this point in life, you say a silent prayer for the folks around you, as you witness yourself wilding the fuck out - yet unable to even think about stopping yourself. And nobody warned me that this would be me. Especially at a time when I still look and feel somewhere in my late 20s, early 30s tops... Girl!
So wheredahell was my mom with "the talk?" Why come none of my friends came at me like, "ooh girl, I got my perimenopause! You get yours yet?" Uhh. Yeah... That would have been a lil bit weird. For all parties. But seriously. WHY DON'T WE TALK ABOUT IT? Is it embarrassment? Are we ashamed of aging? Too fucking tired of everyone's shit that we no longer leave our homes so are pretty much precluded from any and all human interaction? All three? Whatever it is, we can do better for one another, ladies.
It's funny, now that I'm at this point in my life, I find myself watching for signs and symptoms in other women "past a certain (st)age." In the streets. On the internets. Remembering moments of days gone by when I'm like... OMG I finally understand why that chick went the absolute fuck off! Relating to every single woman in every single episode of Snapped! Watching old movies like shiiiiiit - this is why Bernadine finally got fed up with his trifling ass and set all his shit and the damn car on fire... And, ohh, I got why Evelyn could not have given a lesser fuck about backing into those young ass girls' car - because her eggs: dwindled. The mysteries of youth's entertainment, answered - through my very own fuck-the-fuck-off moments that seemingly happen more and more of late.
Y'all. As a child, I pretty much hated my grandmother (rip fat kat), because of her irreverence. She ain't give a fuck about you, your feelings, or your whack ass couch - way before Rick James let the Murphy brothers know. It's always been said that she had not 'nary a cut card - and I couldn't stand it! I hated the way she just said what she had to say, completely unbothered by that poor soul's immediate reaction, and/or what they might say about her later - none of that shit y'all chicks in y'all 20s do. All I knew is that she was mean as fuck... Hah! That chick was perimenopausal - or somewhere 'round there. Sick of mine and everyone else's shit. And that pretty much sums me up these days...
OLD. UNWILLING. UNABLE.
Irreverent as fuck. Unwilling to put up with the bullshit of yore. Unable to pull myself away from damn near fights with grown ass men and actually scaring the fuck out these dudes. #truestories. Saying the fuck what I gotsta say and keeping it motherfucking moving. Even find myself saying, "I ain't mean no harm," after telling some poor soul all they need to know; and "don't start none, won't be none," when folks come at me wrong... Quotes a la Grandma. I've lost every thread of patience with all things whack: Fake ass friendships. Busted ass men. Tired ass jobs. I am just not about the bullshit these days. Not even capable of trying to be about it... I've become my grandma.
And lemme tell y'all... It is fucking lovely. And freeing. Even with the hot flashes. The vertigo. The memory loss. The random ass periods (I swear if I get mine one more time this month... uhh, I'm just going to have FOUR periods in one month... because, you know... that's how it works). The 365 straight days of PMS every year (366 in leap years). All of it. It ain't so bad. Because in this space, y'all, I've become the most authentic I have ever been in my life. Incapable of giving a fuck about what you or your mans think of me. Living my motherfucking life, my motherfucking way. Change is good. Nah, y'all, this shit is great. It's time we talk about it.
*Sorry y'all. I ain't mean no harm. Side effect.
**Scientific results may vary. And/or be completely made up.