One of my favourite terms that I have borrowed from a good girlfriend of mine is ‘’white wine werewolf’’. You know…when you take advantage of one of the 12 sunny days that we have here on this island by scrambling as quickly as you can, after work, towards the nearest patio that is not absolutely heaving with other like-minded sun-starved vitamin D3 deprived humans, order a bottle of chilled white chardonnay and promptly guzzle the whole thing down with the help of one other girlfriend? On an empty stomach? And suddenly you are transformed from this intelligent, witty, normally quite kind and generous human being into a snarling, bitchy, dramatic, sometimes weepy monster who ends up either drunk-dialing an ex-boyfriend or picking a fight with your current partner? Yup – you’ve got it – you’ve turned into the White Wine Werewolf.
I find that this werewolf rears it’s ugly hide about 3 days before my period. Which, funnily enough, normally falls on the New Moon. It’s often after a particularly dramatic row with my husband that I gather enough wherewithal to check on google to see where exactly we are in the lunar cycle. It is amidst the flying plates and drifting innards of an expensive cushion that I momentarily grasp onto the shreds of my sanity and think to myself ‘’oh shitballs – am I getting my period?’’ And sure enough, it is either a few days before or on the night of the New Moon.
One thing I always say to my nutrition students is to never ignore the intense feeling, no matter how off the wall or out of character they seem, that bubbles up in the days preceding your menstrual flow. According to many specialists in the field of female health, your menstrual time is your most intuitive – when you are most open to the universe and to your true feelings. But with great power comes great responsibility: These feelings need to be explored honestly, with the intention of wanting to understand and grow, analyzed with a clear and non-judgmental heart. Hopefully not through the lens of a bottle of pinot grigio.
Tonight is the New Moon. And, yup, you guessed it ladies and gents – I have shamefully tucked the hairy wolf tail between my legs and realised that I have eaten the poor innocent heart, pride and soul of someone close to me. To my latest victim, you know who you are – it isn’t you, it’s me. Really. And everything that I said in the heat of my lunar-soaked craze? There probably is some truth to it. There always is. But it should have been delivered with love, not with the blind rage of a hungry caged animal. Always know that the more painful my bite, the deeper the vulnerability. And this animal hates being vulnerable. But I will try to address the obvious hormone-induced anger that I have in my heart and focus that fire into something positive. Like Biodynamic wine.