What the F*ck Perimenopause

“There will be tears. And anger. And tragically unfortunate haircuts.” — Heather Corinna, author of What Fresh Hell Is This?: Perimenopause, Menopause, Other Indignities, and You

At 40, I was diagnosed with perimenopause. My doctor, with some lightheartedness in her voice, said, "You can be in this stage for 10+ years."

What the actual f*ck?!

I was having night sweats and occasional hot flashes. It wasn't fun, and a decade or more of it didn't sound particularly thrilling. But here I am, 13 years later, still not over the hurdle—but on my way!

Honestly, it's been pretty smooth sailing ... until recently.

Fifteen months ago, I was done. Done being a wife and mom. Done making dinners. Done cleaning the house. Done carrying the mental load of the life I had cultivated for decades.

I'm not proud to say I wanted out. I'm not happy to admit that I fantasized about living alone in a cute little house somewhere, where no one needed anything from me. (It certainly didn't help that I was binge-watching Younger during this phase of life. Have you seen it? I may or may not have wanted her life.)

Something felt off, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

I found a therapist—a woman in her mid-50s. I knew she would understand. And understand she did. Not only did she listen as I cried, complained, and questioned just about everything, but she suggested I get some blood work done and see where my hormone levels were.

I knew she was right. I'd get to it soon-ish.

Life went on.

Then I noticed changes in my body. Changes I did not like or appreciate.

Let me back up a little. I have taught fitness classes for 30 years. Over the years, women have approached me with various questions and concerns, but the one I heard on repeat was, "What can I do about my belly?"

I would smile and reassure them that although they were working out (almost daily), they needed to watch what they ate.

"Increase protein! Decrease carbs! The kitchen is key."

A few months ago, I looked in the mirror and saw a pooch just below my belly button. How could this be? I work out five or six days a week. My diet consists mostly of protein and vegetables. Every morning, I walk the dogs and soak up my morning sunshine. I typically get seven to eight hours of sleep each night.

I WALK WITH A WEIGHTED VEST, DAMN IT!

This is what all of those women had been talking about when they came to me frustrated, sad, and perplexed. And I just looked at them—with that same lighthearted tone my doctor used—and told them to eat better. (I’m so sorry.)

It was time to get my blood work done.

I went back to the wonderful fifty-something nurse practitioner who had helped me with my peeing issue (glamorous, I know). She asked me a series of questions.

"Do you find it harder to recover after a workout?"

"Yes."

"Are you finding it harder to maintain muscle mass?"

"Oh my gosh, yes!"

"Do you have mood swings?"

"Ummm ... yes."

"Are you running out of steam by the afternoon?"

"YES!"

She understood me.

I thought this was just how life would be now—that I was supposed to simply accept that I was getting older and feeling a little less like myself each year. But she assured me that I didn't have to live this way.

I had my lab work done and, sure enough, I was low in testosterone and vitamin D. She suggested hormone replacement therapy in the form of a prescription testosterone cream.

After a few weeks, I noticed a change. A big one.

I was horny. All. The. Time.

I mean, no complaints, but I didn't really feel like I was struggling in that department to begin with! Thankfully, over time, things leveled out a bit, and I feel like I'm in a healthy place now. (My husband would probably like me to stop talking at this point.)

A few months later, I had my labs drawn again to make sure my dosage was correct. It wasn't. My testosterone levels hadn't increased as much as she expected, so we increased my prescription. That's where I am now. I'll have my labs drawn again in a few weeks and see where things stand.

So far, hormone replacement therapy seems to be working for me. I feel better.

Do I still have a pooch? Yep. But I'm working on that by increasing my strength training and getting more of that damn protein into my body.

I know hormone replacement therapy isn't for everyone, and every woman's journey through perimenopause and menopause will look a little different. But I'm here to tell you that we don't necessarily have to accept low energy, loss of muscle mass, low libido, brain fog, and feeling like we've somehow become strangers in our own bodies.

Finally, more studies are being done, and more women are talking about what happens during this stage of life. It shouldn't be embarrassing or taboo.

Our bodies are freaking amazing. They have carried us through decades of change—and they're not done yet. We can celebrate the changes that come with aging while also wanting to feel strong, energized, and like ourselves again.

I want to be a good role model for the women around me—my daughter, my friends, and the women who come after me. I don't want them to believe that turning 50 means resigning themselves to believe that feeling "off" is just part of getting older.

Aging is a privilege. Feeling good while we do it should be part of the conversation.

I want us to be healthy. I want us to be strong. I want us to hike mountains, lift weights, travel the world, chase grandchildren around the backyard, learn new things, and laugh until we pee our pants (which, thankfully, I've already addressed in another blog post!).

Menopause isn't the end of anything. If we're lucky, it's simply the beginning of another really beautiful chapter.

xo, Mindy