
Oh my gosh, y’all.
Can we talk about how perimenopause rolled in like an uninvited houseguest, sat on my couch, ate my snacks, jacked up my hormones. Y’all, she didn’t even bother to say hello!
I’m 51. And I swear I woke up one day like:
“Why am I sweating, crying, bloated, and irrationally mad at my husband for breathing too loud… all before 9am?”
No one tells you about this chapter.
We get puberty classes and pregnancy pamphlets—but perimenopause? That comes with a side of confusion and a punch in the gut (literally).
Here’s what they don’t tell you:
💥 You’ll bloat like a balloon.
And it’s not just after tacos. It’s like your body is staging a slow rebellion every single day.
💥 Sleep? We don’t know her.
You’ll either be wide awake at 3am or sweating through your sheets like you just ran a marathon in your dreams.
💥 Mood swings? Try mood slingshots.
One minute you’re vibing with your coffee, the next you’re ugly crying because someone finished the oat milk.
💥 The brain fog is real.
You’ll forget names, appointments, and why you walked into the kitchen in the first place… all in the same hour.
💥 The rage.
Why is everyone driving so slow? Why is my bra touching me? WHY IS THE DOG BREATHING NEAR ME?
But here’s the thing:
As much as I joke, I wouldn’t trade this chapter for anything.
Because even with the hot flashes, the night sweats, and the digestive system that now acts like a toddler with opinions… I’ve never felt more me.
I know who I am.
I know what I want.
And I’ve stopped apologizing for both.
If you’re in this weird, bloated, sweaty, sacred stage too—welcome.
Here, we talk about it.
We laugh through it.
We make it feel less scary and way more human.
And we absolutely wear stretchy pants without shame.
This blog isn’t about fixing you.
It’s about walking through the fire (and the night sweats) together—and coming out glowier on the other side.
You’re not broken. You’re just blooming… loudly, lazily, and maybe with a tiny fan tucked in your purse.
Let’s get into it!

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