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I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I suspect it’s been a good 10 years.
Where’s here, you may ask? Well, given the brain fog and forgetfulness, it could be anywhere, but the here I’m referring to is perimenopause.
You see, I’ll be 58 this year, and I’m still here. Regular cycle. Apparently my hormones are not willing to give up the fight, and I always love the look on the doctor’s face when they see my blood results because they assume, surely, I’m done and dusted.
Not today doc. Then the conversation turns to contraception—wouldn’t that be a surprising treat for all, another child?
Alas, I digress, I’m not here to discuss having more kids. I’m here to talk about the wild ride our hormones can take us on. Not necessarily a joyride but a ride nonetheless.
Whilst sleep can become elusive, weight quietly creeps up, focus goes on a vacation, joint aches and pains visit far too regularly, shoulders like to freeze for months, even years on end. Your ass does actually look big in that, your waist disappears, your bladder seems to shrink, road rage becomes a thing, you always feel itchy, motivation left on the last train and doesn’t seem to know it’s way back, you sweat in your sleep (the brief moments of sleep you get), you need to strip at alarmingly frequent rates, you develop new allergies, everything feels dry (except when you’re sweating), your tolerance is long gone, and you’re always f*cking hot.
It’s not all bad, though. In fact, I’m kind of becoming friends with her and her need for heat.
I’ve learnt, if you let things control you, they will eat you alive.
So here I am, at 57, with my hormones in no hurry to move to the next stage, and I’m okay with that. It’s unpredictable and at times annoying, but I’m finding the hidden gifts amongst the muck.
And they have been surprising.
Societal conditioning. Whether we agree or not, there has always been some societal conditioning, beliefs, and expectations for older women. The invisibility factor is a big one that I’ve never experienced or understood. Sure, there are a small group of men who think women have a used by date, but the reality is we above-middle-aged women have a lot to offer. So I don’t buy into it at all and say in my most polite voice: f*ck societal conditioning.
We don’t need to accept negative bodily changes. I almost let myself believe and accept that the body changes were inevitable. Of course our bodies change, and they aren’t going to be the same as when we were in our 20s, but they can absolutely be strong and fit. After almost healing a third frozen shoulder, I’ve jumped into weight training with gusto. I can hear the voices muttering, “I don’t want big muscles” or “women should stick to cardio” or “strong women are too masculine and not attractive,” and I say f*ck that. My body has changed in amazing ways since lifting with progressive overload. The weight I had gained has now gone as I’ve changed up my diet, increased protein, and started really understanding the food I eat. Because I’m starting to develop muscle definition, I look far more toned. I’m stronger. I’m fitter. My perimenopause symptoms have decreased. And I’m improving my bone health. Woo-hoo. Where exactly are the negatives?
Tolerance and boundaries. I no longer tolerate bullsh*t. This may seem harsh, but the truth is it’s draining to deal with mediocrity or accept less than. I’ve spent a good part of my life people pleasing and avoiding confrontation, which only left me feeling like a doormat. People crossing my boundaries as I was too soft to enforce them. I don’t allow that anymore. It’s not a hardness, but rather an expectation that people will respect my boundaries.
Disconnecting. I now disconnect from nonreciprocal relationships; these may be colleagues or friends. People who don’t show up for me the same way I show up for them. I step back. I don’t have the time or inclination to waste time doing all the work with people. Nor do I want one sided, self-absorbed relationships. Whilst it can be disappointing, I just let it go these days. There’s such a freedom in stepping back from draining connections. I have so many amazing connections in my life; I don’t have space for those that are unfulfilling and unrewarding. If people aren’t adding to my life, I disconnect from them.
Confidence. I’m more confident now than I have ever been. I feel secure in myself and stand in my power. I’ve been studying, diversifying my career, making new friends, nourishing the long-term friendships that are the chocolate chip cookie to my milk, doing things in the gym I was always too intimidated to do, writing controversial pieces because they need to be written, and whilst there’s no shortage of male attention, which can be lovely, I realise I don’t need it. I feel attractive and valued in myself. It’s a pretty good space to be in.
The word f*ck. I love this word. It’s soothing. Satisfying. It can be used in so many descriptive ways. F*ckery. Clusterf*ck. F*ckening. F*cker. It’s meaningful and colourful. I understand some may shudder hearing and seeing it. And not everyone is a fan, but I am. And I’ve earned the wisdom, the years, and the freedom to use the word f*ck anyway I see fit. I don’t use it to be disrespectful; I use it because it’s cathartic. It’s a refreshingly honest word, and there’s beauty in that.
So here I am in this place, and I liken it to an awakening. There’s a shift in attitude. It’s not rudeness, nor is it rage. It’s not judgement, nor is it any sort of bitterness. It’s a quiet confidence and determination. It’s an unlocking of the cage so many women put themselves in, due to the way women are conditioned. It’s finally putting my needs first. It’s matching other people’s energy, rather than bending myself 20 different ways to please them. It’s saying no, without guilt. It’s worrying far less about what others think and more about what I think. It’s speaking my truth. It’s wearing what I want, not for attention, not for validation, not to fit in, but simply to feel good in my own skin. It’s realising all the hurts, loss, and mistakes were part of the journey to land me where I needed to be. It’s a heightened discernment. It’s understanding with a depth of clarity I’ve never had that women in this stage of life are absolute Queens. It’s recognising the gifts I have always had but couldn’t see. And anyone who who dismisses us can silently f*ck off.
We are different to our mothers and grandmothers, as we are far more independent. We are not like the little granny shown throughout history. No doubt my daughter and granddaughter will seem even younger when they’re my age. Perimenopause and menopause wasn’t spoken about or was but in hushed tones in the past. Indeed, many poor women were locked away in asylums as they struggled with the symptoms when they hit this part of their life. Not anymore. We speak about it. We share our struggles. We have options and find solutions. We advocate for ourselves when we are constantly fobbed off by uneducated doctors. We stand in our power because we deserve comfort and answers.
For many women, it’s a horrible time. For some women, they don’t have the support or knowledge to understand there are things we can do to ease the discomfort. For other women, they hold a belief that we just have to deal with it. And for the rest of us, we say f*ck that and look for ways to help ourselves.
There’s no denying it has been so poorly studied in the past, and that left women with no options. So many women have been shunned, dismissed, ignored, and even belittled for seeking help. Condescending doctors not listening because they had no actual knowledge or care to help these women. Handed out antidepressants instead of replacing and balancing our hormones. Told to walk more. Eat better. Sleep better. All helpful tools but none of them replace the thing causing all the chaos. Medicate for rising glucose levels and cholesterol. Take pain killers for the joint pain. Anything but actually treating the root cause. Constantly told it’s natural so deal with it. Ignorance and patriarchy at its finest. Men losing their libido and erection is also natural, but we manage to treat this with the correct treatment pretty quickly.
It was somehow seen as a passing from mid-life to old and those old women should just cut their hair, wear sensible shoes, cover their bodies, and deal with the horrid chaos in silence. They should come to terms that they’re no longer desirable and their role is to be enslaved to their families or within the home. They’re no longer sexual creatures and have no needs. Their role is cooking, cleaning, looking after the family, often without gratitude, but they as women, as autonomous human beings, were no longer seen, valued if they were ever seen and valued in the first place. And the matriarchs, the witches, the ones who not only showed us their power but refused to be run with the status quo, were silenced.
We will no longer be silenced.
We move from childbearing years into non-childbearing years. We find our voices. We find ourselves. We acknowledge our needs, and much to some peoples shock and horror, many of us are still sexual beings. We train. We lift weights. We have big-ass boundaries. We have careers. We pursue passions. We walk away from mediocrity. We have beautiful friendship circles. We are connected to ourselves. We are strong because we’ve always been the ones who have provided the safe spaces for our family and protected those we love most. We are as invisible as we want to be. We are hot women in the midst of our greatest awakening. This is our new season. We stand in our power. And there’s incredible magic in that.
Don’t let anyone dim your light. This is a time to reclaim your essence, vitality, and power.
~
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