Peri menopause. Intense bloating. Frequent, dull headaches. Tender and sore breasts. Exhaustion. Unregulated body temperature changes. And the unfiltered rage.
A friend of mine equated it to a ticking clock. You become more aware of your mortality on a biological level and simply don’t have time to pander to the unnecessary. Your body is adjusting to the reality of aging.
I’m beginning to realize my workouts aren’t just vital to my mental and physical health, but also vital to managing all these peri menopausal symptoms.
I’ve only scratched the surface of what I’m about to face. A couple articles, some quick facts, anecdotes. I have been met with “but you’re so young!” more frequently than I enjoy. I know exactly how old I am, thank you. Usually explaining my hot flashes convinces anyone who knows. Now I’m hearing stories of what has helped each person and I’ve noticed something interesting.
When I was pregnant, I looked very young. Apparently it continued through raising two little ones. The way people talked to me was infuriating. I had to hear it from a friend, that yes, I looked like a 17 year old. The advice was free flowing, often unasked for, and seemed to hold a moral judgment against other methods. There was an expectation with the advice. I felt like a child not trusted with the responsibility of raising my own children when society did nothing but preach about the natural and glorious ability of every woman to be a mother.
With menopause there is more mystery. More awe. A somberness to the whole process that I appreciate a great deal more than I anticipated. It’s a sisterhood born from something we all will absolutely share. Whether it was like taking a breath and over without even a whisper, or a two decade long struggle of earth-shattering changes, we all go through it.
So I’m beginning the work of understanding what I’m going through and how to embrace it. A lot of this is unsettling, but the rage feels like a comfy blanket I misplaced for decades and now I get to wrap myself in it again.