Aging as a Gift

I think the lyrics of a Katy Perry song say something like, “It came in like a wrecking ball” and I swear that’s exactly how perimenopause felt a few years ago.

This all really began about nine years ago, but COVID brought everything to the surface.

On top of COVID, which let’s be honest, I think we are all still healing from, I was hit with perimenopause, unhealed trauma, and the unraveling of a faith I was deeply committed to for over 12 years. I started to wake up to my many racist blind spots, see my white privilege, and how white supremacy, patriarchy, and Christian nationalism had robbed me of my authentic self.

And I was grieving. Grieving the harm I caused Black, Brown, and LGBTQIA+ people while thinking I was following the ways of Jesus. Grieving how I sat quietly, never speaking up, even though in my heart I supported, cared for, affirmed, and celebrated gay, queer, and trans human beings.

Right before COVID, I was working as a hostess at a nearby restaurant and a year or two before that, I was cleaning filthy offices and disgusting bathrooms part time with my son. That is a memory he will never forget, but he learned so much from that experience. Lessons he still carries with him today.

And what made it all the more depressing? I had a college degree. I had experience. At one point in my life, I had even been mentored by a world renowned motivational speaker. I had spoken in Europe and across the United States, had experience in radio, and was even given the opportunity to do a PBS special, all while being a stay at home mom. And still, I could not get hired. I was a middle aged woman and society had already decided I was not valuable anymore.

When I tell you I was a hot mess I mean it. I was deeply depressed, full of rage and anger, and my whole body hurt. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. There were days I could not walk down the street. Some days, I could not even get out of bed.

At the same time, my kids were growing up and graduating high school, and my oldest was leaving for college. I felt completely lost. I wanted to go back to work after being a stay at home mom by choice for 20 years. But nothing was opening up.

And yet, in the middle of all that, I decided to go back to school, get my MSW, and become a therapist. I realized I had been allowing this jacked up world to decide my worth. But no more. I was going to take everything I have lived through, everything I have learned and experienced, and use it to help others.

When I look at pictures from that time, my heart aches for that version of me.

But here is the good news: I rose from the ashes.

But not before I fell apart.

I allowed myself to completely unravel. I let myself feel everything. And for the first time in my life, I was completely honest with myself. I knew the drill. I had been here before. And I knew the only way through the pain was walking through it. I learned how to love myself just as I was. And slowly, I came back to life.

I found an excellent, honest, real therapist and I truly believe it was God, the universe, Spirit, or maybe even my ancestors who brought her to me. I also found a fantastic gynecologist who helped me get the hysterectomy I needed and find the right HRT that works with my body. I became more mindful of what I was feeding my body. And this all helped lead me to reconnect to my Indigenous Hawaiian roots and to Indigenous people, a community I didn’t even realize was part of me. It eventually sparked a desire to explore my Irish parts too.

And I took one tiny baby step every day. Sometimes it was one tiny baby step every hour or every minute.

But I made it through.

I’m back. I’m healthier and stronger than before. I’m no longer on antidepressants and there is nothing wrong with medication. If I ever need to take them again, I will.

Here’s what I know now: we are going to age. That is inevitable. But aging is a gift, not a curse.

Yes, we are going to sag. We will get wrinkles and bags. We will go gray, gain weight, and our joints will not work the way they used to.

But we are so much more than how we look.

We need to change the way we see beauty. Because now, when I look at older women, sometimes I lose my breath. Their outer beauty shines and it does not matter how gray their hair is, what size they wear, or if their face is covered with wrinkles because their eyes shine. And so does their smile. They have done the inner work. They have used menopause as a time to heal and give birth to a new version of themselves and it shows. They shine so brightly.

So keep going, friends.

It is painful. It is hard.

And it is so, so worth it.

Remember, we only get this one wild and precious life.

And whether you are stepping into the second half or already walking through the third act and last season of your life, it is up to you and me how we live it out.