I Am a Child; I Am a Woman; In All that I Am, I Am Menopausal

I am a child at heart—because I refuse to grow up—disguised as a grown woman—enjoying the pleasures of being one. And though my wrinkles have yet to show, my hair is streaked with shades of gray, and on my face and eyes you read the many years I’ve already walked, because hidden within my heart, my mind and spirit, I bear the scars from fierce battles faced, some won, some not.

As a woman, with a child’s spirit, I’ve at times thrown my obvious tantrums, crying and demanding to have, crying and demanding to be seen and heard. Sometimes winning, sometimes not!

As a female I’ve enjoyed the process of transforming from puberty into “woman,” stepping into a woman’s shoes and walking in them, proud and confident. So I’ve enjoyed being admired, being pursued, and finally being conquered.

As a woman, married and in-love, I’ve enjoyed the sharing and bonding of hearts, with the one I know loves me. We’ve shared growth and secrets with private telling; we’ve shared intimacy, spoken and unspoken—thus I’ve gained the benefits of “womanhood.”

As a mother, ever proud, I bear the obvious scars from having children, safely hidden beneath my clothing, but always to be a part of me, and privileged to have experienced. And I now reap the benefits of “motherhood.”

As a grandmother I am enjoying the extended love through my grandchildren, and I know that they will comfort me in my very old age, because I taught their parents well. I have loved and cared for my children with all of my heart, and taught them what I hope will make them better individuals; taught them to respect and love their mind and bodies, so they’ll know to respect and love others as well. And so I am secure in the knowledge that they, too, will teach their own children well.

Without a shield to protect me, because a mother walks by faith, I offer my heart to them, freely giving my love, imparting comfort, and an ear and shoulder, should they need it. And as often as I make sure to remember, I offer hugs and an audible “I love you,” without shame, for all to see and hear.

But being menopausal has not been easy, in fact, sometimes it has seemed almost unbearable—all the physical and mental changes that are taking place within and without. So much that I often feel I live in a quiet world, all on my own, afraid to speak and do. Sigh! And though I have no fears of getting older, I wish to approach these changing days with grace and dignity. I only fear the new challenges ahead, of how my family and friends will now perceive me, in my new personality.

I am now someone new to get to know.

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