Like so many perfectly descriptive phrases from the past, “change of life” somehow became archaic in our society that gives more credence to physiological terminology than the abstract, spiritual or emotional. I think this happened in our feminist quest to become more like men by denying our beautifully abstract, spiritual, emotional femininity.
Fact is, menopause – or the time of life when it usually occurs – is absolutely, without question, a “change of life”. Every woman I know who is at or beyond 50, has begun to examine, and in many cases, change her life.
Our children are grown, at least to a point of no longer needing our constant attention. Our marriages have had to change and be redefined with our decreased focus on the children. Our careers may well have left us longing for the fulfillment we incorrectly believed they would provide.
I may have a more liberal group of acquaintances than many, but most of the 50+ women I know, who are in 20+ year marriages, with children into or near adulthood, are either: a. Having an affair; b. Considering an affair; c. Seriously considering living away from their spouses for at least part of the year; or d. Carefully scrutinizing their marriages for signs of life that they can build a future on.
Part of it may be our generation. We began our adult lives blazing trails – fighting for equality, demanding the right to live any life we chose for ourselves. We then settled into our mothers’ lives, putting our husband and children first, setting aside our aspirations, and undermining our own hard-won freedom.
Now mortality follows us around like a desperate panhandler – begging for the bits of change we have left from the riches of our promising dreams.
January second my friend Sue packed her Hyundai hatchback with six pairs of orthotic hiking boots (for different terrains she may encounter), and her box of several dozen vitamin and hormone supplements, and set off on a five-week sabbatical to destinations West – those spiritual places she visited briefly in her youth and planned to move to permanently, before her husband’s career demanded a life on the East coast and her children developed special needs.
She loved her husband, loved her children more than life itself. But over the past 20 years she absolutely forgot what it meant to love Sue. Now her friends sit and debate whether Sue will realize how good she had it and come back after a week, or never come back at all.
None of her friends have raised the possibility that she will have a glorious five-week trip, come home renewed in spirit, and find a way to combine her love of Sue with her love of her husband and family, and live out a happy and rewarding dotage.
For the sake of every 50+ woman’s dream that it is possible to reconcile self-fulfillment with a loving relationship, I hope that is exactly what happens.
Good Luck to Sue. Empowering yourself is the best thing you can do for yourself. It's not selfish!
Posted by: Jackie Raynor | January 10, 2006 at 02:16 PM