Ode to Perimenopause

Waking up at 3am soaked in sweat. 

By the morning the bedsheets have turned yellow and smell like they’ve been slept in by a rugby team.

Wearing layers whatever the weather.

Standing in the garden on a dark February evening in my bra while my best mate assures me that the heating isn’t even on inside the house.

Aching joints in places I’ve never felt before.

Grasping for words. Trying to find the thing, the whatsit…you know…

Feeling like I’m wading through cement every day with rocks on my back.

Endless scrolling to find a real solution to the fact that you just can’t shift the weight anymore.

Wanting to slap the expert who says we just need to eat less and exercise.

Laughing in Waitrose at something funny my friend said, then immediately clenching my thighs together because I’ve pissed myself. 

Waking up 50 times in the night to pee.

Splitting headaches.

Becoming utterly consumed by rage because someone cut the queue in Tesco.

Watching my best friend get the tweezers out to pluck her chin first thing in the morning and knowing I’ll be next.

Hearing about dry vaginas and weight gain and wondering if I’ll ever have sex again.

Having a hot flash in a business meeting with a potential new client. 

Trying to style it out before giving up and having to announce that I need to go and stand near an open window because I feel like I’ve caught on fire. 

Being assured by the very kind man that I can stop apologising, and his wife has been through it, while he hands me a glass of cold water.

Wondering how on earth the generations of women before me coped without HRT and being grateful that I got a doctor who listened. Eventually.

A new found assertiveness that may or may not be proportionate to each and every situation.

Putting two and two together and realising this probably started a few years earlier and at least it explains why I was so inexplicably tired in my late 30s.

Taking Progesterone and having the best night’s sleep in years. 

The fridge light on my face at 3am because I am always hungry.

Giving in to the hunger and enjoying every second.

Recognising my body is incredible. 

Talking to friends and work colleagues and being flooded with relief that I haven’t imagined it all.

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