So a few days ago, I wrote my first blog entry. Well, actually, it’s my second but I deleted the first one because I wrote it over a year ago and I’d lost the drive to follow on with that one.
My post from a few days ago touched on what it’s like to be a happily married 50 something woman with great kids but no meaningful connections outside of the family. I’m absolutely certain I am not alone in feeling like this … so where are you my menopausal soul-mates?
I’m back in the UK today, following my husband from one country to the next (in the past 10 days we’ve been in France, Switzerland, Italy, back to France and now back in the UK once again …). (And I wonder why I don’t forge lasting friendships?). Actually, that’s not entirely true because I have great friends, they just live in far-flung places and I only get to see them about once a year. But true friends they are. I’ve known those gals since before puberty hit and we’re still hanging out … when we can. So it’s not like I’m a total loner. I’m not the girl who didn’t ever get picked for the team. I’m just the girl who grew up to marry a man who happens to move around a lot because of his job and so I’ve turned into this transient, weirdly invisible being who knows how to navigate her way around many corners of the world but who sees no familiar faces along the way.
What’s lacking in my life is the comforting knowledge that I have my girl-tribe around me. Women need women. They really do. I’m lucky – my husband is great at letting me off-load and he’s unbelievably tolerant of my frequent mid-menopausal rants but he just doesn’t know how it feels to be the one who gave up a promising career to raise the family, to sit in his shadow while he forges ahead putting work above all else (don’t get me wrong, there have been times of extreme fun but it’s his carnival, not mine), he has no idea how my heart aches for all the things we lose along the way in life because he’s so busy and I’m just … lost. I somehow dropped my compass around the time the kids left home I guess. Surely I’m not alone …