Menopost

“There is no greater power in the world than the zest of a postmenopausal woman.” That quotation appeared in a 1992 New York Times opinion piece, “Mighty Menopause.” Wow!! I never knew about my amazing superpower!! And here I was, making notes about my slowing reflexes, my fading memory, my glacially paced metabolism. All this time I have paid my turbo-zest no heed whatsoever!! Perhaps because it has been so well hidden!

To be fair, my menopause was a tad extreme, ushering in my bipolar disorder. I didn’t know if I was having a hot flash, or my brain was overheating because I hadn’t stopped talking in 72 hours. Somewhere in there my child-bearing years came to an end, but with five young kids I scarcely noticed a fertility slowdown. Frankly, that whole time of my life was a giant mess, and I have memory-holed most of the misery.

But now I am enlightened, and called to embrace my post-menopausality! Though I had a really rocky journey through my change of life, no matter! Time to rev back up and conquer the world! I do wonder how the guys would fare after the massive physical and mental upheaval we gals endure. What is their MENopause like? If it’s anything like ours--and it isn’t--I feel like they might need at least a decade or two to recover from the bizarre menstrual cycles and massive mood swings, and society would emphatically NOT expect them to perform better than ever before. 

As women, we are eternally held to a higher standard of achievement (sometimes, alas, by other women), so why should our Fabulous Fifties and Swinging Sixties be any different than our earlier, frenetic years of accomplishment (climbing that steep corporate ladder in our heels--carefully!--random babies clinging to us, while still remaining fetchingly feminine?)

Don’t get me wrong. It is truly wonderful to have a Presidential candidate who is a postmenopausal woman, not to mention older female powerhouse CEOs, doctors and artists. I’m honestly thrilled at the progress, but there’s a teensy part of me that wishes for fewer role models in my age group. Wouldn’t it be relaxing to settle into our advancing maturity the way our grandmas did, rocking those flowered aprons and orthopedic shoes? After countless years of go go go, is there NEVER going to be a rest stop exit on the highway of life? You know, with bathrooms and gas stations and coffee? A place to take a breather, to be, maybe, a little less zesty for a bit? Are we ALL expected to channel Jane Fonda, who’s still impossibly sharp and chic at age, what is she, 120?

Today I am announcing the birth of a new (slower) movement: Postmenopausal R&R. Our choice of course, and some will still scurry hectically along, but let’s not stigmatize those women who decide to dial it back a bit, as our calendar pages turn.

Who’d rather think of Zest as just a brand of soap.