I am post-menopausal now, thankfully. (A hysterectomy at forty meant early menopause for me.) My body is my own again, and that alone is something to celebrate, is it not? I have lost forty pounds. I am healthy and energized. I am taking pleasure in expanding my wardrobe, buying clothes that are marginally edgier and more daring than I have ever owned.
What is this? Is it happiness? Not quite. Instead it is a subset of, or maybe a prequisite for, happiness. It is a newfound confidence in moving through the world, an ease with myself and others that I have long coveted. Little did I know that I myself could be the engineer of change.
All my life I have waited for things to happen. Until now. What power there is in realizing that change, and growth, is in my own wheelhouse, and always was.
Take that, fifty, take that.