If Only I Could Be...Naomi Campbell?

Well, here’s a part of menopause that is driving me crazy: fat. I mean LOTS of fat. And it wants to settle around the waist—just where I DON’T want it. Do you know how difficult it is to buy anything flattering when you look like an apple on sticks? C’mon. I wish some of that fat would go to the “girls” area, y’know what I mean? But nooooooo…it has to sit above the hips where my “waist” is supposed to be. I laugh when I see fashion experts on TV tell me to measure my “waist” at the smallest part of my middle. Huh? Right now, that would be the bust area, ladies.

What has this got to do with sex? Plenty. I often fight the image of me as undesirable…to myself and surely to my husband. How could he possibly find this weird dumpling-shaped body attractive? And how about all that heat? Not the kind I wish for, but the kind that melts my hair like limp noodles. Being close to someone when that heat wave hits is like putting myself in an oven and turning the temperature to high. Will I be roasted to a turn in thirty minutes? It feels like it.

These troubles of menopause have changed me. It has made me less sure of myself as a woman. I have to give in and cry on my Father’s shoulder sometimes…I even ask Him: Why did you design me this way? What were you thinking, Lord???

That question takes me back to my teen years when the mystery of “womanhood” first began with me. I asked Him the same question then! And in my Bible reading soon after that event, I came across this verse:

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well. (Psalms 139:14 New King’s James Version)

I read that verse and I see that I should be grateful that He has made me the way I am. I have to step back and put my body’s shape into perspective. If I lived in a war-torn country, would my body shape matter? No. If I was struggling to survive a terrible disease, would my body shape matter? No. If I know the Creator of the Universe values my eternal soul above my temporary shell, does my body shape matter? Well. No.

So I try to see myself the way I am and yet still marvel at what DOES work! What DOES still look good. I mean, I’m sometimes amazed that my feet have held up all these years. Just think about it: they work hard. And yet, there they are—still walkin’.

When my hubby gives me that “look”, I have to remind myself that there are parts of me that are still working well. I can smile and laugh and let him know I appreciate his desire for me. Yes. That I can do. And, maybe, it helps to turn down the lights. *Wink*