Oct 202022
 

**Warning: Possible TMI alert – blood and adult content to follow** 😛

It may have been the law of attraction. It may have been the Universe’s idea of a good joke. It may have been finally returning to regular yoga classes. It may have been a subconscious release.

Whatever it was/is, my monthly visitor — long dubbed Aunt Flo (AF) by me and BFF — has made an unexpected, and unwanted, return after teasing me with a ten-month hiatus.

Strangely, last month I noticed a spot of blood after a session of “sexy time” with the hubs, but just put it down to more than just the tip kind of after-effect. Then, I somehow came across a post or article earlier this month about how someone was in a similar situation – nearly a year in with no visits – when they went for a check-up and found that the cause of the stop was from PCOS. Upon treating the PCOS, her AF returned.

With a little help from Google, this could be me minus the obesity part as I would never call myself at any point in the last year or two as obese – slightly above average in body weight, but always manageable. However, a challenge with processing insulin (though not diabetic, but tingling in my limbs from too much sugar in alcohol or desserts is probably some kind of undiagnosed sign, right?), a noticeable increase in skin tags the last year or so, and having fibroids for years could definitely be contributing factors or reasons to believe I possibly fit this bill. So, having restarted regular yoga classes mid-September and adjusting my eating to include more fiber along with a regular intermittent fasting schedule, I imagine that AF deemed my body worthy for her return.

Although I am not particularly loving the leaky faucet that she has brought with her visit, there are some positives as I reflect on the bliss that her absence brought.

First, I used to always use her visits as a justifiable reason to take a day or two off each month to relax without any niggling voices in the back of my head trying to make me feel as if I should be doing more than lounging on the sofa watching my favorite CBS/Paramount+ crime series. While I have never been the type to beg off doing physical activity like sports, yoga, etc. due to AF, I have often been the type in my adult years to take “sick days” as mental health days to escape the daily routines and social expectations.

Lately, I have been noticing the challenge of losing weight that wasn’t there in my younger years. Although I am by no means a gym junkie or exercise fanatic, I do try to do targeted movement most days. This might mean a short walk through the fields with the pups. Or, a body weight training session. Most mornings, I was doing yoga in our bedroom — until I started taking regular classes again. Now and then, I might use an app to do a series of Zumba routines or cardio workouts. However, on those days when I didn’t do any targeted movement, I would feel as if I had let myself down. With the return of AF, that feeling is gone! 😉

Then, there is food. I love food. I love to eat. Sadly, my days of eating an entire McD’s meal just before cleaning my dinner plate are pretty much over. My metabolism is still pretty good, but it isn’t that good anymore. So, when we don’t have guests we feel need feeding two or three meals a day, I eat a lot less and better. Intermittent fasting has become one of those buzz words and new diet trend, but it does work. Although it has a “fancy” term attached to it, basically not eating after 6pm or before 10am is not that much of a challenge, especially when eight of those 16 hours is during sleep. Doing this the past couple of weeks has brought my weight down slowly, but I believe healthily as it seems more likely to stay off this way.

So, with all of this combined, it does make sense that AF is back. I was not particularly excited about the idea of facing decisions around HRT or other forms of treatment that come with menopause. I had thought I had possibly got away without many negative side effects related to the transition, but alas – that still remains to be seen.

In any case, it could be worse to have my AF back. I’m not sure if she’s going to continue her regular visits or just drop in to turn on the faucet, then leave it to build back up again for another unknown period, but for now I’m going to enjoy a day or two of taking things a bit slower and not hearing any niggling voices at all.

Ah, the silence is beautiful. Now, back to my couch! 🤪

~T 🔥🐉♋️

Jul 052021
 

One of the things that always made me look forward to aging is that I would be able to openly talk about a number of topics that most consider to be off-limits or somewhat taboo. For me, I always saw the benefit of being “old” as no longer needing to care so much about what might offend, embarrass, or put off someone, because the fact that we have had more experiences and longevity in life gives us that freedom/right. As a younger person, I never understood why we weren’t supposed to talk about things like sex, the body’s functions from periods to menopause to bowel movements, and the like. Some cultures, groups, or persons arbitrarily decided that it was uncouth to have conversation around the most natural and common of topics.

Thus, as part of my middle-aging process, I have decided – let’s talk about these things!

Sex

If there is ever any tension between me and M, that is not related to my fluctuating hormones or the effects of being together nearly 24/7 for the past year plus, it is usually over sex. He wants it more than I.

When I got married the first time, my dad told me that sex, money, and love (maybe – can’t remember the third thing, actually) are what can make or break a marriage. Without money and/or without sex, the love goes.

While we lived in Japan, the ongoing theme that came up frequently especially for foreign men married to Japanese women was that the sex had gone out of the marriage once kids entered the picture. So many couples stay unhappily married, even Japanese couples, because one partner has decided to no longer maintain their sexual connection. Upon further discussions, it seems that it isn’t necessarily just a Japanese female pattern, but that of many women (in particular) as we age. While Japanese culture has evolved to accept this natural deterioration and accepting that affairs or satisfaction may be achieved elsewhere, it is not so accepted in the Christianized West.

Recently, M and I listened to Matthew McConaughey’s book Greenlights (so good with his dreamy voice reading it aloud). McConaughey writes about ensuring that he makes time to physically connect with his partner not just because he likes sex, but also because it makes you feel closer to each other, because it makes you feel amazing, because it is what makes a marriage rather than a friendship – or words to this effect.

For whatever reason, we tend not to talk about sex unless it is with innuendos or the help of an inhibitor relaxer like alcohol 🍷. We tend to roll our eyes🙄 at the boyish remarks made about flirtatious behavior or sexual attraction to another. We tend to get embarrassed 🙈 by the talk unless it is in a joking manner. But, why?

In my view, I don’t particularly like the comedic factor because I used to take it as a personal attack on my lack of desire for the activity. It wasn’t from a lack of attraction, but mostly due to a number of excuses (yes, I mean excuses) for why I said “no” 🙅🏽‍♀️ to any advances made.

However, recently, I have increased my magnesium and Vitamin B intake, which has altered my responses to such advances and even has me making my own. While there is no hard scientific evidence to prove that this increase has contributed to my response, I can only anecdotally assume that it has had an effect. This leads me to the other topic that we don’t often talk about especially as women.

Our cycles

When I was of age to begin my journey into womanhood, I was taught about the physical reproductive systems in school and then left to my own discoveries without discussion from the women in my life. My mother’s surprised expression was a disappointment to my young self when I put “tampons” on the grocery list after having used hers for months.

As I now face that joyful peri-menopause and menopausal phase of life, I am again reminded of my disappointment that my mother, or any female older than me, had not shared about their experiences. Looking back on a period of time when my parents were not on the same wavelength, I later pinpointed a major contributing factor was my mom’s transitioning into the third phase of a woman’s cycle.

Once I did ask, or perhaps more realistically – accused -, my mother as to why she didn’t warn/tell me of these physical shifts that only a woman can relate to. The response must have been either avoided or unsatisfactory as I have no recollection of what she said. It’s possible that, like many reasons of her generation, it’s just not something that was/is talked about.

However, as I find myself spending time with more women and young girls, who are just starting out with their monthly cycles, I want to encourage us all to talk about it. It’s not like it’s a secret that we bleed 🩸 out of our vaginas once a month or that someday we will stop doing so. Therefore, why not share and commiserate as we transition in and out of these phases? 🤷🏽‍♀️

As you can probably tell, a running theme in my ponderings of late relate to the things we do and don’t talk about. While I may not talk to just anyone about everything, I still think that everything should be talked about to at least someone. 🤪

~ T 😀

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