"That'll be the HRT, Pat". said Peter Kay impersonating his mother maybe 15 years ago. As I recall, he was joking that his mum seldom hung up the phone correctly. She thought the call ended after she'd "put it in its holster". So Peter would be there, on the other end of the phone, wanting to dial out again, saying "mum hang up the phone". He joked that she thought she could hear little voices and blamed the side-effects of HRT. I have no idea if any of this was true. I laughed though. We all did.
Back then, lots of Peter Kay's words were relatable. Except that. The HRT, Pat. I knew it had something to do with getting old and it felt as remote as a planet, some light-years away.
Fast forward to 2021. I'm 46. I've arrived at planet aged and it's as inhospitable as Venus on an angry day. There's no map. There isn't even badly articulated, vague directions.
Every woman shares her birth story, in graphic, unwanted detail. It's practically a competition. It's the penultimate of womanhood. The pinnacle. I was in labour for 3 whole weeks. It took the doctors 3 hours to stitch me up. Or the other spectrum. I was totally free from all drugs. I didn't even have a paracetamol (which in reality is like trying to put out a volcano with a slush puppy).
But no one says "ohhh, in a meeting the other day, I sneezed and wet myself a little bit. Tee hee. These things happen." Or "you know those hot flushes you've heard about, well they feel just like the flu. Not mini flu but proper flu, where you have to roll to the toilet." It's just not the kind of stuff women chat about. This only serves to make us feel, me feel, well, less of a woman.
How can I be rocking my 40s when I'm ill, grumpy, spotty and struggling to control my bladder. When they said 'life begins at 40', were they referring to something so totally removed from your 20s, that it feels like starting again? Rather than sexy, powerful, wise woman. It's a lot of scared, confused, hormonal lady.
Still. I'm trying to negotiate it all, whilst working, home schooling and waiting for Lockdown 10. something or other to end. Occasionally, I even hoover the carpets.
