Letting Go of Things That No Longer Serve Me
The best part about being a Menopausal Woman and have zero f*cks left
This morning, when my husband awoke from his slumber, he said he was going to clean the house.
That would’ve sent me over the edge as recently as six months ago. I would’ve felt like he was attacking my abilities as a woman and wife, even though I am a militant feminist who spends half her life thinking, “I wish a bitch would…” so I can decimate a white man. Yeah, I know, it makes no sense.
Actually, it probably does make sense. I am a member of Gen X. I was raised by a generation that, while evolving, thought it was a woman’s job to keep the house clean and take care of the kids. If the house was dirty or the kids were ill-mannered, it was a reflection on the wife. She was somehow lacking as a woman.
That was ingrained in me, and it tormented me for years. If my kids didn’t behave in public, I was a failure as a mother. If my house got messy even though I worked a full-time job, went to grad school and took care of the kids and my dying father-in-law, I was a failure as a wife. Let’s just say, I spent a lot of time wondering why I couldn’t be a better woman in that regard, while also fighting the patriarchy tooth and nail.
And then I got tired of feeling like I had to do it all, and for four glorious years, I had a housekeeper. It was divine. My house smelled of lavender Fabuloso, and my housekeepers in North Texas and here were absolute angels.
However, life happened, and I had to let my housekeeper go. It was back to not being able to keep up because I spend every waking minute working my actual job or a side hustle to keep this ship afloat, which impacted my mental health, which made it even harder to stay on top of things. It was a vicious cycle, and boy did I struggle.
Every time Nathan came home and made a snide remark, I would rip him a new one while sitting there wondering why I couldn’t be a better wife.
Until I didn’t.
Here’s the deal: being a good wife and mother no longer even scratches the top 10 of things I am worried about. Nathan has been with me for 15 years. If he is unhappy, he knows where the door is. As for my kids, they are grown, and 50% of them wouldn’t stop to piss on me if I were on fire, so who even cares? At least I’ve got one who may take care of me when I’m old. I have way more important attributes that make me a good woman than what our patriarchal society expects, and letting go of antiquated beliefs has been amazing.
So, if Nathan wants to deep clean, let him. He had only been at it for like an hour and had to take a break, so I’m not holding out much hope over here. But, if/when he cleans, I will write, create content for TikTok, start on the homeschool curriculum I am putting together for progressive parents who pull their kids out of school because Texas is becoming a Theocracy, and get in a strength workout. I may also crochet more obnoxious scrunchies.
In other words, I am going to work on my side hustles (mostly) that keep us afloat while he does his part.
Almost 50-year-old me knows this is a fair tradeoff, and she does not have a care in the world. Well, she does, but not about him cleaning.
Letting go of this kind of stuff is making me a better woman, and more importantly, the type of woman I’ve always wanted to be.
Menopause is awful, but the part where you have zero f*cks is glorious.