"I want what you're having!"
Making a rare trip to Holt Renfrew about five years ago, I immediately headed for the lingerie department. About an hour later, emerging from the Toronto store carrying a telltale bag, I ran into a friend. “What have you got there?” she asked. I reached in, unwrapped the tissue paper and pulled out a slinky, mauve nightie that was backless and almost strapless, and shimmered in the late afternoon sun. She stared at it for a few seconds, looked up at me and then — without hesitation, on a sidewalk filled with shoppers — asked, “Are you having an affair?”
“No,” I laughed.
“Well, you’re not going to tell me that you bought this for your husband,” she said.
“Actually, I did,” I answered, and held the sexy negligee up to my not-so-slinky frame.
“How long have you been married?” she asked incredulously.
When I replied, “Twenty-four years!” she exclaimed, “I want what you’re having!”
On a constant, natural high
Indeed, what I was having was a totally surprising menopause, where the hot flashes were one permanent state of heat, and my immediate concerns revolved around how I was going to get my husband “in the mood” tonight. Not only that, but I had energy to burn. My mood swings were pointing toward the good mood end of the spectrum. In fact, most of the time, I seemed to be on a natural high, ready for fun, frolic and fashion, with sexy nighties near the top of the list.
My husband was totally taken aback with this development, and so was I. Frankly, I’d been dreading this change of life. I had seen depressed colleagues popping “happy pills” or rubbing wild yam cream in a panic up and down their arms. I had heard stories about dryness, loss of libido and dark moods. Some friends were uncontrollably weepy, or angry, or fraught with angst. Yet here I was, on a hormonal high, dancing in the living room to the Pointer Sisters’ “It’s Raining Men.”
