I Used To...

I hope there are others out there like me but I've lived enough to be fine even if there aren't.

Let me hang out with just that for a second before I move on to the thing that I want to see if anyone relates to.

Being nearly 50 is a weird thing for me. It's a weird state of being. On one hand, I've just started the estrogen patch for my new menopausal features like joint pain, weird weight gain, NOT night sweats though, but more importantly, intense anxiety, nearly crippling depression, and rage. Rage, mind you, was a checkbox option and so when I saw it there I felt soooooo seen. Just filling out the checklist of possible symptoms immediately alleviated some of my anxiety.

Here's an example:

I'm a runner. About 8 years ago, I found trail running, loved it, and Napoleon'd myself a "trail runner". (Bonaparte, not Dynamite, by the way) That was back when I lived in Ohio. When I moved to Montana, the trail runner in me was like a kid locked in a candy store on Christmas when the holiday overlaps with Hanukkah. "Oooh, I wanna run on that mountain, and then up that mountain, and then over to THAT mountain! AAAaaaaaa!!! EeeeeeEEEeee!!"

And about a year into living there I was at the Physical Therapist with achilles tendon issues.

And then I had a shoulder tendon issue.

And then I had a knee tendon issue.

And then I spiraled into quasi-hypochondria thinking I had that tendon syndrome that I can't find the name of. Even my PT was like, "Uh, I'm a little concerned that you might have this" and I was like "I've already been Googling it, get in line."

But also, I was running mountains instead of the flaty flatness that is Ohio. And I started CrossFit. And I was living on the side of a hill and was biking up and down the hill almost every day, to and from my yoga studio. Nevermind the fact that the lowest point in Montana is still higher than the highest point in Ohio (altitude impacts muscles and oxygen intake, etc.).

My point: I had reasons.

But also though, I've been a physcial bad ass for a while. Teaching 12 yoga classes a week for 5 years. Training for marathons. Biking to my yoga studio everyday, starting when I was in Ohio. Walking when I wasn't biking.

One could argue, I suppose that I was over doing it. But that's not the point right now.

Anyway. I get to Virginia where it's flat like Ohio. And then I get a tendon thing in my sternum. That was weird. And then a tendon thing in my elbow.

Sure I did some heavy leg-ups and was hauling dirt by the Lowe's bucketfull out of the pit we have out back. But still.

When I mentioned the tendon syndrome thing to my new PT in Virginia, she was like, "I.....don't think so."

When I texted my doctor about my new feature of insomnia and rage and crying and mostly just hating life, she was like, "Menopause and here's a list of things you may be experiencing because of it."

People. I tell you. When I looked through the checklist, I thought about all the women over the centuries who have been labeled hysterical, moody, insane, or whatever. My fury grew for them. Thankfully, my estrogen patch helps with that, as well as all the other stuff. (Though, to be sure, I still have fury over women being treated as crazy...as if they wanted to feel that way.)

The funny thing about all the tendon and menopause stuff is that I've been kicking ass and taking names the whole time, and now, I'm doing all that and just feel better doing it. So with all of that figured out, I'm back to how I feel about being nearly 50. The thing is, I feel like I'm still 19. When I see myself in the mirror, I'm like, Where did those wrinkles come from? And all those grey hairs?! (For the record, I didn't have nearly as many before I started dating Clint)

And yet, I'm surprised when people don't bat an eye about my wanting to do big adult things like buy a house, buy a car, open a wine bar, and move to Virginia with a man after only 2 years of dating. People think I'm adult and mature enough. Psht. I don't, sometimes!

Being nearly 50, though, I've been through some shit. We all have. And one of the things I've been through is caring far too much about what other people think. Living my life for other people. I even stayed into Ohio until my grandparents and mother died. Boy did I overstay THAT welcome.

Yes, I moved to Virginia for my partner's job. But it is a big fancy job. And, to my whole point here, starting a relationship in my mid-40s was a whole different flavor of ice cream. Now, I know what I want and don't want in a man and a relationship, and I'm not willing to settle. And so I didn't.

Before, I used to make all kinds of excuses and I also used to decide that I was going to like or dislike something before really giving it a fair shake.

One thing I used to say - until VERY recently - is that I didn't like white wine.

Look, I know this isn't a huge thing but this post is about changing and growing, so hang on.

Maybe this is where you're like me, though. For a long time, I've been a dry, red wine (and Guiness) gal. The end. Don't pour me a white, I'll pour it on the floor. Actually, back when I was in my 20s, I worked at a camera shop in the film lab in back. A dude that developed the black and whites and custom stuff was straight up stalking me. One day, he put an $80 bottle of chardonay in my car (he took my keys from the break room to do it). When I got home, I admit that I tasted the wine. I'm nothing if not frugal. Even though he was a stalker and I needed to report him to the cops, maybe the wine was worth drinking.

It wasn't. And I poured it down the sink.

Now that I think about it, that incident probably had a very big impact on my dislike of white wine.

That was 20 something years ago, though. A girl can grow.

Now that I'm opening a wine shop, I gotta be a little more mature about what I say I like and don't like. People are watching and listening. Also, I may be wrong. I may actually like a lot of white wines. And, there are likely plenty of dry reds that I might pour down the sink.

As a matter of fact, and a point of education, this is one of the many reasons I'm going to sell natural, low-intervention wines. They'll taste different each year (i.e., their vintage) because of the change in weather and climate. And while I'm doing my part to help avoid more climate change, there are parts of it that I will at least appreciate while it's happening. Kind of like how there were actually some good things that came out of the pandemic. And the fact that I grew closer to my mother when she was going through dementia. And the whole "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger thing" (that I just learned recently was written by Friedrich Nietzsche).

If you think you're going to hate something, you probably will. If you think you're going to love it, you'll make all the excses as to why you do. If you're honest with yourself, you might just learn and love something new.

I used to hate white wine and said that proudly and often.

Now, I really like a lot of white wines and am drinking a great Chardonnay as I write this. (Thank you to Second Bottle up in Richmond for turning me on to Kind Stranger).

And I still love a dry red like a Bordeaux, but there are some that I have poured out after two glasses. Frugal be damned. If it's crap. It's crap.

I also used to be 19 but now I'm 48, truly a much better age to be.

_____

Side note: We got the keys to the wine bar last week. The floors are being sanded and finished this week. Clint will start building the bar soon.

If you've ever opened a restaurant-type business, you know. I feel like if I can survive the process of dealing with the health department and insurance companies and ABC, etc etc etc, then all the rest is totally possible. I've done my fair share of crying and yelling about bureacuracy and paperwork but once it's complete and the doors are open, look out. Workshops, writing events, artists, writers, collaboration with other businesses in Petersburg and around, and baguettes.

Truly, Fred. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.

And also ready for a glass of wine.

Kind Stranger 2022 Chardonnay from Second Bottle in Richmond.