This morning, I wake up with a feeling of wellness, calm and overall rejuvenation about life.

That’s not true.

I’m still battling a cold which is giving me hot flashes…an intriguing preview to what menopause might feel like.

At least when I’m that age, people will blame my overall bad mood and unpleasant demeanour to “the change.”

I remember my first menopausal experience like it was yesterday.

Ok, it was more like 13 years ago.

Once upon a time, I was fortunate enough to participate in a formal mentorship program.

As most good things go, this program went the way of the Dodo bird.

I pause to think of  Sesame Street’s “Follow that Bird” one of my all time favourite movies.

You really should watch it.

True story.

I digress.

Being mentored to be a full-time Employment Advisor involved most of the duties a full time Advisor would do, including the advising, a lot of paperwork, workshops and grading.

Without any of the Advisor pay.

Hmm.

At the time, I would have told you I didn’t need any type of mentorship, because, well, I was pretty awesome, intelligent and likeable.

And self-aware.

Clearly, these traits evolved from being diagnosed as being gifted in grade 1.

As a child from the 80’s, wasn’t everybody?

I digress again.

Back to my story, I would have also told you the mentorship program was a mere formality, that I was well on my way to being the next Richard Bolles.

Side note: How one can be in the career development field over 14 years and not have read that book and be a sage is quite the feat.

My mentor would tell you otherwise.

She fit the mentor role to perfection, the calm to my hyper storm.

The anchor to my hot headed air balloon.

I have a really bad temper that needs tending to.

She was a protective, guiding compass.

Throughout our year together, we’d have lots of candid conversations, about work, life and everything in between.

Like the one time, having lunch together, she admitted about not feeling well and being “off” for the past few weeks.

She admitted this change was due to menopause.

I had suspected for quite some time something was different with my mentor.

Without missing a beat, and completely comfortable with our “say anything” relationship, I said:

“Oh yeah! I can tell you exactly when that started to happen, because that’s when you started being a bitch!”

Probably not the ideal comment to share with someone who was responsible for your professional future.

So yes, I did need the mentoring to refine my approach.

I’m glad it paid off, and I’m glad we’re still friends.

She saw the beauty in me when I didn’t see it for myself, or rather, forced me to see the beauty in other people.

That’s what a good mentor does.

Speaking of beauty, yesterday I went with my sister to the mall.

She wanted to use a gift card at the MAC makeup counter.

I think that’s my least favourite place in the mall.

First off, there’s MAC in the title and no Big Mac which is a tease.

I could go for a breakfast Big Mac right about now.

Mmm.

Makeup counters are like my kryptonite.

These bright, shiny pods that look like operating rooms, but instead of cutting you open they add product to your face.

Aside from my sister, I can’t think of any person who does professional makeup that inspires me to think;

“Yeah, I want my makeup done, just like her!”

Or him.

Can’t discriminate.

I disappeared because really, my sister does my makeup, and she does a damn good job.

So, while she was being tutored by an amateur on how to put on under eye makeup, I went to find an offensive desktop calendar for my office.

Once we meet up, I ask “what happened to your face?!”

The Cosmetician gave her under eye makeup that made her under eyes look darker.

What about the blending? What about the contour?

I’m pleased that something resonated when my sister speaks this foreign language to me.

The store wouldn’t even use her gift card at that location.

My sister took it in stride.

Eventually, she went to the other location and got the product she wanted.

And, as an added bonus, she’s ready to try out for any football team if she doesn’t wash her face.

🙂

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One thought on “Easy, breezy, beautiful…not so much a Cover Girl

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