The Unintentional Nap, the Skunk, and Lionel Ritchie.

Last night I dreamt I was at a Lionel Ritchie concert. I was having a great time singing along to All Night Long when I suddenly found myself awakening from a nap as Lionel was exiting the stage. The concert was over. Somehow, I’d fallen asleep, and I didn’t wake up until the curtain was closing.

I was disappointed.

I was angry.

I was disappointed because I’d missed my favorite performer doing what he does best, and I was angry with my husband because he let it happen.

There was nothing I could do to change it, so I allowed my husband to take my hand and lead me towards the exit. As my husband and I were leaving the arena, I saw a dead skunk in my path.

A dead skunk.

In the arena.

I remember thinking, “what the fuck is a dead skunk doing in here?”

The skunk didn’t stink… but it was just… there…dead…in the arena, blocking my path. I had to walk around it.

That’s the only part of the dream I remember. In hindsight, it’s the only part of that dream I need to remember.

So, what does an unintentional nap, a dead skunk, and Lionel Ritchie have to do with menopause? In my case, it means everything.

Spiritually, dead skunks can represent the need to face and then free yourself from negative energy, the loss of personal power, or boundaries that have been overstepped.

In my case, all three applied.

You see, I have a bedtime routine. This routine brings me peace and grants me the kind of rest I need to make it through each and every day.

Each night, at nine-thirty on the dot, my bedside lamp automatically shuts off and the soothing sounds of Chantress Seba fill my bedroom. I turn off the television, grab my satin cooling pillow and then drift off into a peaceful and healing sleep. When I stick to this routine, I wake up relaxed, well rested, and ready to start my day.

When I don’t stick to this routine, well, may the odds be ever in favor of whoever crosses my path.

Last night’s dream represented the lack of rest I’ve been getting over the past several nights. It represented my lack of routine. My lack of quiet. My lack of darkness. My lack of peaceful and serene sounds serenading me to sleep. It also represented my inability to enjoy life because my exhaustion has been at the forefront of everything I’ve denied myself lately.

Why?

Because I have a husband who suddenly changed his routine, and it completely clashes with mine.

My husband loves watching TV in the living room. He usually stays up late into the night, watching Seinfeld, King of Queens, movies, Sportscenter… whatever is on the television until he finally falls asleep. He usually wakes up at some point, and crawls into bed to snuggle me.

For the last several nights…when I walk into the bedroom to enjoy my sanctuary, my husband is already there, on his side of the bed with every light in the room on watching Shark Tank.

Guess what happens at nine-thirty on the dot?

The lamp shuts off, Chantress Seba starts playing, and my husband says, “ALEXA, STOP. ALEXA, TURN THE LIGHT BACK ON.”

He then continues his nightly routine… in the bedroom, while my nightly routine has been banished to the depths of hell.

Now, I have no problem falling asleep with the television on, but I have a hard time staying asleep with random voices in my head. It affects my rest. It affects my dreams. It heightens my anxiety to have so much going on around me while I am trying to rest.

And the lights. OMG, THE LIGHTS! I can’t rest unless I have complete darkness.

I remember waking up off and on last night, hearing the voices on the television mixed with the snoring of my dog and my husband playing games on his phone next to me.

My anxiety was through the roof, and I finally sat up and said, in a not so nice way, “can you at least turn the lights off?”

My husband turned off the lights and the television and escaped to the living room, closing the door behind him.

“Alexa,” I said softly, “Play Chantress Seba.”

And as the soothing, melodic sounds of the chantress filled the room, I fell into a deep and restful sleep.

I told you this story to remind you that your boundaries matter. Your needs matter. Your rest matters.

Without rest it’s hard to find peace within yourself, but it’s easy to get sick, to get frustrated, to feel anxious, to feel depressed, to feel angry…

And when any of the above happens, as Black women, it’s too easy for everyone else to look at us as if we are the problem.

If I had set those boundaries with my husband the FIRST time he dismissed my sleep ritual, I wouldn’t have blown up at him last night. I wouldn’t have held on to several days’ worth of negative energy and exhaustion and anxiety until it built up and spilled out of my mouth like a regurgitating volcano.

Set those boundaries, Sis.

But more importantly, KEEP those boundaries.

Your needs aren’t negotiable.