The M Word

I have a friend from high school who hates her teenage kids and husband.

Okay, she really doesn't hate them. Rather, she has a high level of frustration and resentment towards their lack organization, initiative, and willingness to take care of themselves.

My dear friend is my age, and has been been visited by the M word, where the baby factory has shut down, closed for business. Estrogen is flowing at a slower rate, thereby reducing her sense of nurturing and maternal instincts. The lacks of hormones makes her see more clearly: she hates her family because they suck.

Of course, she loves them, but she would hate them less if they could literally and metaphorically pack their own lunch.

I have experienced such things, but I am fortunate to have been a young enough mother that my kids were almost out of the house by time I hit the change. Poor Pedro was in his last years of high school when I turned to Medusa, using my superpowers to call bullshit on bullshit.

Here is an example of me before and after menopause. Let's say I get in my car thinking there is a half a tank of gas, but realize when I get in that my then husband drove the car for the last week and left it empty. I go to his car, and discover that car doesn't have any gas, either. Like the lights are flashing and the GPS automatically tells you the closest gas station kind of low gas. The estimated range of miles left is zero. Let's say this behavior repeats itself on a regular basis, even when the said husband has been gently asked before to put gas in the car. To be fair, my ex is an adrenaline junkie, so he knows when the low gas lights flash you, you can still drive like 32 miles, but at some point, you will run out of gas unless the magic gas fairy comes and puts gas in the car, which doesn't happen.

My pre-menopausal response to the empty gas tank: I guess Jack must be really busy these past few weeks, so busy that he doesn't have time to fill the car with gas and he's too busy to tell me before I need to drive the soccer carpool. No worries, I can take care of it before I cook dinner.

My post-menopausal response to the empty gas tank: How can the same guy who runs half a hospital not figure out how to put can in the car? I can operate fancy life-saving hospital equipment but doesn't know how to use a gas pump? Does he expect me to take care of all of this shit? What do I look like, his servant? Does he not respect my time? Now that I think about it, he only puts gas in the car before he goes skiing and that's it. How come he can figure out how to use the gas pump when he has something important to do but ignores it when it isn't about him? WTF? How did he get to be such a self-centered asshole?

The gentle and docile behavior serves women well when they are raising young children. I wouldn't want to tell a toddler to change their own fucking diaper. That would be bad, and probably invite a visit from CPS. Things start to shift when kids get older, and little bit of that attitude can serve grown children well. Like, "If you want to drive, pay for your own fucking car insurance." See? That doesn't sound bad. That sounds like you are encouraging responsibility in your kids.

While this transformation wasn't pretty, it was necessary. I don't regret what I did, but I regret how I expressed my anger. I have a friend who says he wants his next relationship to have "no bullshit, no drama," which is fine. The hard part of that is it needs to start within ourselves first before we can expect our partner to change. I joined a twelve step program to understand and dilute my rage towards humanity, and to find a way to be true to myself and not be a full on bitch to the rest of the world. I am fully capable of being docile and gentle, but my tolerance for bullshit is very, very low.

So here is how I imagine the "no bullshit, no drama," playing out in the gas station.

Put gas in the car like a responsible adult (no bullshit), and I won't turn into a lunatic when I have to deal with the consequences of your actions (no drama).

Perhaps this explains why some late middle-age men like younger women. Maybe it isn't because these women are fertile, but because they are deluded and docile from excessive amount of estrogen. These older men should just hope they die before their new younger wives hit menopause, because unless the guys change, the same shitty relationships are going to repeat themselves.