With days turning into nightmares, I’m loving myself less. I really can’t find the funny in this miserable mess. Anxiety and stress with breast tenderness, that’s without the hassle, of trying to get into the new dress.
A bloated belly stuck watching the telly, I sip at my glass of wine. Why didn’t my mother tell me of this future that is not that sublime?
I remember with nostalgia a cycle once a month, now I’ve got more identity issues than president Trump!
Weight gain and joint pain and too many moments on the lips, have now turned these… things into horrendous sized hips.
Not even a spinning class can make it disappear. Eating sugar has become the ultimate fear. You’re sweating your load whilst your head wants to explode. I can’t believe it.
I’ve forgotten the gym code.
Puberty and pregnancy are up for general debates. Yet mention the menopause… that’s just for your mates.
Out with the girls talking about vaginal dryness, it happens to most.
Even her Highness?
Dryness of the vagina is an area of taboo. Yet we can talk about contraception and going to the loo. Jenny Eclair has gone up in my esteem, it’s great to see a woman give one for the team.
Body odor changes and that’s just the start, at least it takes your mind off the desire to fart. Irregular pounding heartbeat, who the hell knew? This would happen nightly… whilst sweating too. Whipping of your clothes in an extravagant manner! Only to tell him you can’t, because of the bladder.
After some time of thinking nothing can be done, and social media is the only fun. Conversations about the menopause start to flow and your beginning to realise you are not an old crow. It’s a natural process that happens to all and the days get brighter and you don’t feel so small.
So, put on your glad rags and put some lipstick on. Do some research and sing a different song. Ask others about it just don’t suffer alone, look on social media or pick up a phone!
