Invest in some thirty-something friends.
Hanging out with hip, beautiful young people twenty years your junior seems like a counter intuitive, demoralizing, destructive idea. But trust me. These are your new people.
First off, while those your age find your unpredictable, cantankerous ways unpleasant and irritating, the thirty-somethings find you fascinating and quirky. They don’t know that this hormonally imbalanced, erratic whacko looks nothing like your pre-menopause self. Embrace the thirty-somethings because they will embrace you back.
These are also the people who are conscious in the wee hours of the morning. Yes, while you are awake for NO REASON, the thirty-somethings are intentionally awake. So at 1am after you have tossed and turned for forever, unsuccessfully relaxed using your deep breathing exercises and checked out Instagram you can text your thirty-something friends and solve all the problems of the world. Not only is this highly productive but also much less lonely.
Invest in layers.
The ability to remove the majority of your clothing in less than twenty seconds is critical to surviving hot flashes. Two words: loose layers. Loose is less hot and easier to remove with the added benefit of hiding your disappearing waistline. Win, win. Layers mean you don’t end up sitting awkwardly in your bra and big girl panties while out in the big bad world.
Obviously natural breathable fabrics like cotton, linen and muslin are best. Polyester can kill you. I’m working on a flowy Annie Hall look – sans the tie.
Invest in disclaimers.
I am not responsible for my actions, words and inappropriate hand gestures at this time. Menopause is responsible. I’m a moody, unpredictable jerk. If I could crawl out of my skin and punch myself in the face I would. In an effort to prevent others from punching me in the face I have come to use disclaimers throughout the day.
Morning husband disclaimer, “The sound of you chewing your cereal is filling me with rage. I hate you and your cereal. I’m sorry. I don’t hate you. I hate that you make chewing a soft, mushy cereal sound like a microphone jammed in a garburator. Sorry. I’m clearly over-sensitive this morning, proceed with caution. I hate your stupid cereal.”
Afternoon kid disclaimer, “I am tired and grouchy. I’m putting myself in a time out.”
All-encompassing evening disclaimer, “I’m barely keeping it together people. Run. Save yourselves.”
Invest in you.
Cut yourself some slack. Menopause sucks. Be good to yourself whatever, however that looks. The world is not actually ending – just your ability to menstruate. So layer up, throw out a disclaimer or two and go hang with your thirty-something friends. You’ve got this.