Less Is More
The Most Important Lesson The Peri-Menopause Has Taught Me
When I first entered the peri-menopausal stage of womanhood, I was in distress. I didn’t know what it was to start with. I believe the symptoms started in my late thirties and really came out in force in my early forties. I thought I had left anxiety, extreme introversion and body image issues behind with my adolescence but suddenly it felt like I was enduring a second puberty.
The symptoms were all psychological and even now, (a few years later and far more informed,) apart from the odd hot flush that has remained the case.
I remember sitting outside of my son’s school crying in the car. I had no idea why. All I knew was that I did not want to get out of the car and have to walk into the school and collect him. I was horribly reminded of my intensely shy childhood and the agony of being an introverted, body-conscious teenager. My irrational thoughts were in overdrive. It was ridiculous, yet I couldn’t stop crying.
That was the day I knew something was really wrong and with a bit of research I soon discovered that the peri-menopause was a thing. Of course, I knew about the menopause, but I’d never heard of peri, which is the stage before the actual menopause. It can last up to ten years and the physical and psychological list of symptoms is endless…
Everything started to make sense and a few years later I am in a much better place emotionally. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that I am thankful to the peri-menopause for teaching me a valuable lesson: that less is in fact more…
I’d never really understood that phrase until recently. Looking back on my life, I think I always wanted more… I wanted more animals as a kid, and I usually got them. I wanted kids of my own, and I got that too. I wanted more of everything that made me feel like me. More kids, more animals, more stuff, a bigger garden, a bigger vegetable patch, chickens, then more chickens, then ducks because why not? And although I loved my house and garden, I wanted more. I wanted my own plot of land, my own farm, my own little self-sufficient haven.
Over the years I have added more and more to my life until I reached the point where I was exhausted by it. I have a house filled with the remnants and debris of raising four kids here. I have a garage full of junk and a room above the garage filled with more junk. There is another junk pile in the garden waiting to go to the tip.
I remember my husband once saying jokingly that I liked to make life hard for myself. Looking back, I think he was right. I was adding more and more complications, stresses and demands to my life and at the time I loved it, I thrived on it and it goes without saying that I don’t regret a thing.
My children are the best thing I ever did with my life and at one point, taking in every unwanted pet was something I took pride in. I was the one people went to when they no longer wanted their hamster, guinea pig or duck…
But slowly, there has been a change in me and I blame the peri-menopause for setting it off. I no longer want to be surrounded by stuff. I have a deep longing now to strip every room bare, to be rid of clothes I never wear, books I’ve never read, and ornaments that just collect dust. I’ve realised that once these pets have all passed on, I don’t want any more.
I have not replaced the last batch of rabbits, guinea pigs and hamsters, and I will not be replacing the chickens and ducks after they have gone. What used to thrill me now just tires me. I just don’t want anything demanded of me anymore and I think that’s what starts to happen to women in this stage of life.
I have three dogs at the moment, but eventually I will be more than happy with one. I have a huge garden that I no longer want because it takes so much time and energy keeping it in order. I want to potter about and take things slowly. I want to sit down with a cup of tea and not be thinking about the next thing on my to-do list. As a self-employed person, I can dictate my own work schedule and I now want my entire life to be simplified. I want less stuff, less stress, less complications, less demands, less things to dust, less rooms to clean, less grass to mow, less plants to take care of, less, less, less…
Because I have finally realised that less is in fact more.
If I make life easier for myself, I gain.
If I have less to do, less to clean, less to organise, less to take care of, less to worry about, I have more time and energy for me.
Do we get selfish in this stage of life? Maybe. But I think it does us good. I think its overdue.
I want more time. I want more peace. I want more adventures. I want more new experiences, more challenges, more magic. I want more time for writing, for reading, for discovering new music. I want to have more lunches in pubs and cafes or on beaches with the wild wind blowing sand into my face. I want to start hiking. I want to explore. I want to climb hills and follow rivers.
And it’s taken the peri-menopause and its strange influx of intense emotions to make me realise all this.
It’s time to declutter, time to clear out, time to break free.
Less is more which means far more time for me.
