Summary

The article "Godzilla: My New Inspiration in Midlife" is a humorous and metaphorical exploration of the author's experience with menopause, using the persona of Godzilla to convey the intensity of her feelings and the challenges she faces.

Abstract

Jen D. Clark, the author, creatively expresses her struggle with menopause and the societal expectations of a middle-aged woman by likening herself to Godzilla, a powerful but often misunderstood monster. She describes her exhaustion, mood swings, and desire for solitude in the context of a giant lizard's rampage and subsequent need for rest. Clark touches on the societal pressures to maintain youthfulness and femininity, the challenges of being a single mother, and the unwanted advice from external sources. Through her vivid comparisons, she emphasizes the importance of respecting personal boundaries and the need for empathy and support during this transitional phase of life.

Opinions

The author humorously conveys her desire for destruction and chaos as a metaphor for the upheaval she feels during menopause.
She satirically expresses the idea that her 'nuclear' strength, akin to Godzilla's, is fueled by negative life experiences rather than radiation.
Clark criticizes the societal expectation for women to maintain their youth and fertility, highlighting the double standards between aging men and women.
She advocates for self-care and setting boundaries, asserting that middle-aged individuals should not be expected to solve everyone's problems.
The author rejects the stereotype that menopausal women are seeking romantic relationships, emphasizing her contentment with independence and personal growth.
She calls for understanding and support for perimenopausal and menopausal women, rather than exploiting their health issues for profit.
Clark underscores the importance of 'monster hygge,' or finding comfort and tranquility during life's difficult transitions.

Godzilla: My New Inspiration in Midlife

My sleep disruption could lead to mass destruction

Photo courtesy of me, Jen D. Clark on Canva using free image from Pixabay

I have not slept for three days.

I need destruction, chaos, terror. I want to loom large over a city full of annoying beings and stomp and crack their paved streets. I want to breathe atomic fire and use my giant lizard tail to swipe down large skyscrapers and step on vanity trucks and way too-big SUV’s. I want to roar and see the faces filled with fear, hopefully running away.

Menopause is going really well, thanks for asking!

After my rampaging and a decent cup of coffee, I want to eat several tons of green things and a few thousand fish. Yet, I mainly feed on radiation, so those hot flashes are just signs that my strength increases. Thanks be to all that nuclear waste and those nuclear tests that gave me my power.

Metaphorically speaking, the nuclear exposure in my life consists of the following: bad romantic relationships, reading the slimy, smarmy, and useless comments in YouTube videos (I’ll never get that time back), enduring mansplaining, having dreams I sacrificed for others, and working in customer service for many years.

I truly, deeply understand the phrase, “They went nuclear over the situation.”

Once I feel satisfied everyone who has pissed me off is terrified and leaves me alone, my belly is full, and my radiation powers are at level Atomically Fierce, I am ready to go below the sea and sleep for another few thousand years.

The fatigue is what really drains me, what has me looking for a deep Pacific Ocean nap. I have no desire to face another monster, another task, another responsibility. Being several hundreds of thousands of years old, I have learned boundaries. Uh, no I say to work when it calls — go tackle the Giant Preying Mantis monster yourself.

There is no mate for me.

I can lay eggs myself, as Godzilla. But as a perimenopausal working woman, the eggs are no longer being frequently laid, nor am I actively or aggressively seeking to get laid.

I am a single Mom raising two young adults whose father could see them more but sticks to the obligatory twice-a-month visit to the undersea cave to see his offspring and have them stay with him overnight. His cave is only five miles away.

Do you see how I have adapted to my circumstances? This giant kaiju has adapted to parthenogenesis. If I want babies, as a giant mutant lizard, I will make my own. It’s just easier that way.

Everyone forgets about me when I slumber, or keep myself quiet, aging under the sea until they need me. Then it’s, “Middle-Aged Godzilla, help us! A three-headed dragon from space is attacking civilization. You are the only one who can defeat them!” I won’t go out of my way to destroy you for bothering me with this like back in the old, immature, emotional days. As long as you let me relax at home, sip my favorite beverage, do my hobbies, and have some “me” time.

But if you come at me with way too many demands, honestly, figure it out yourself. The only thing midlife monsters like myself are good for to you insufferable humans is taking care of everyone’s problems, and frankly, we are done with the rescuing, exhausted from caregiving, and our bodies’ new metamorphosis.

Don’t get me wrong. I have days when I can still take on my most powerful enemies with a cup of cold brew coffee and an ear splitting roar. Who or what are some of my enemies?

1. Tail gating, obnoxious drivers — I have a rear dash cam, Chad, your Mommy is not going to be happy you dinged up your new Ford F150 on a middle aged, Toyota Corolla driver with good, overly expensive car insurance turning into Dunkin Donuts.

2. Menopause “advice” websites that are just someone trying to shill protein powder, vitamins and expensive potions that will somehow turn me into a sexy tiger, I mean cougar, some animal name they give to older women who date way younger partners, apparently. I need science and compassion, not the patriarchal capitalist system trying to cash in on my feminine health issues yet again. Side Note: Why are older men only called “manthers” or “sugar daddies?” They sound sweet and benign. “Cougar” sounds like it will leap on an unsuspecting trail hiker and violently try to invite them over for coffee.

3. Energy vampires — I have learned to use my atomic heat beam breath for people who can’t understand boundaries and the words “No” and “I have to go now, I have diarrhea.”

So, I just want to nest under the sea and do my monster hygge life. I really do not want to go on another attack on a city or fight any other kaiju. I just want to comfort myself thru this difficult transition, get some clarity for my future, and stick to my boundaries. I want to become an ancient, wise mutant lizard who has a couple of good friends, her family, some creative contributions, and just some tranquil years.

Don’t piss off this monster — my rage can potentially level cities to dust. Trust me, let me sleep and relax. Offer help to us midlife monsters; appreciate what we contribute to your lives. Don’t poke the midlife kaiju and don’t take us for granted.

Am I saying perimenopausal and menopausal women should get a pass for bad behavior? No. I’m simply letting you have a window into what is going through this creature’s mind and body as she goes through a change in her life.

Sleep is precious to me now. I can still save the day, but let me get a nap first.

Thanks for reading!

Jen D. Clark— Single mom of two young neurodivergent adults, lover of science, magic, nature, writing, painting, fiber arts, growing things, music, and many other subjects too obscure to go into https://jenadriftinaseaoftrees.medium.com/