Menopause, Marriage and Motherhood

I found out something interesting yesterday.

And I’m not very happy about it.

Here I was, sitting back, smugly enjoying the fact that I can completely justify every single resentment that I hold, every grudge, every regret, when someone pointed out that (in the English language at least) we “harbour” them all.

We pride ourselves on giving a safe haven to all those things that we don’t feel good about.

We snuggle them up to our chests and keep them warm.

We allow them to grow and procreate (have you noticed that once you hold a grudge against someone (or you regret something you did), other people start displaying the same kind of behaviour! Suddenly, it’s all around you and, for a little while at least, you put a lot of effort into padding out the things you don’t like until your resentment / grudge / regret grows into something you can define instantly. At that point, adding to it becomes effortless.

For heaven’s sake. Every single one of my grudges is completely justified and absolutely defensible in a court of law. I mean, they’re written in stone. In two languages. Plus hieroglyphics, just to make sure there’s no misunderstanding.

I have a six-hour drive today as I to Armidale to pick up my baby from school and catch up with some of my besties. I have this very long Spotify playlist of songs that I can sing along to, very badly for the first hour or so, but once my vocal chords have warmed up, I hit the right note occasionally. Not that I care, for the most part, no one can hear me.

I’ve had some very odd looks when I’ve been driving through some small country towns, though. I forget how loud I have the music when I’m going along at 100kms an hour. When I slow down to 50k, the music – and my mostly tuneless screeching – is at rock concert level. When I think no one can hear me, I have a lot of fun pretending I’m a red hot rock chick with an awesome voice. Unfortunately, I suspect there are a few residents of Coutts Crossing and Dundurrabin who can testify that I’m not nearly as hot a singer as I would like to be. Ah well, you can’t have everything.

But when I’m not Hot-Rock-Chick-ing my way through the NSW countryside in my flashy black BMW, I’ve got plenty of food for my thoughts.

K xxx

PS I seriously hope no one has ever heard me try to hit that high note in Unchained Melody