Menopause: My Unofficial Survival Guide

Dear Diary (and anyone else who’s brave enough to read this):

Menopause barged into my life without knocking. I didn’t invite it, I didn’t schedule it, and I definitely didn’t put it on my vision board. Yet here it is—unpacking its suitcase full of hot flashes, mood swings, and unsolicited belly fat.

Since ignoring it isn’t an option, I’ve decided to write about it. If nothing else, maybe my survival notes will make you laugh while I fan myself dramatically with the nearest piece of cardboard.

The Hot Flash Chronicles 🔥

Let’s start with the obvious: I am now a walking furnace. Hot flashes arrive unannounced, like a surprise volcano eruption in my chest.

I’ve opened windows in winter, stripped layers off in the middle of conversations, and considered sticking my head in the freezer more times than I’d like to admit. At night, it’s even more fun—waking up drenched, flipping pillows like pancakes, and sleeping half in, half out of the blanket like some confused flamingo and seriously buying a personal air conditioner just for the bed.

The Sleep Thief 💤

Once upon a time, sleep was a sweet, simple thing. Now it’s a comedy show starring me, tossing and turning while my brain yells, “HEY! Remember that thing you said in 1998?”

Between hot flashes and bathroom trips, I’m lucky if I string together three hours in a row. When I do finally fall asleep, I wake up feeling like I’ve been in a bar fight. Spoiler: the bar fight was just me wrestling with the duvet.

The Mood Swing Olympics 🎭

Hormones, I swear, are the world’s worst DJs. They hit “shuffle” on my emotions all day long.

One minute I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe, the next I’m tearing up over a commercial with puppies. My poor family, friends and colleagues never know which version of me they’re going to get—it’s like living with a one-woman theater troupe.

But hey, at least I keep things interesting.

Brain Fog = My New Wi-Fi 🧠

Brain fog is real. I’ll walk into a room with purpose, stop dead, and then wonder what the heck I’m doing there. Sometimes I’ll be mid-sentence, and the word I need just… disappears.

It’s like my brain’s Wi-Fi keeps dropping out. The data is there, it’s just buffering. Thank goodness for sticky notes, phone reminders, and the occasional game of charades to explain the word I can’t remember. (Pro tip: if I start describing “that thing you use to clean crumbs off the counter,” I mean sponge.)

The Middle Section Mystery 🍷🍞

Then there’s the body shift. My metabolism apparently packed its bags and left without so much as a goodbye note. Foods I’ve eaten for years now seem to bypass digestion and head straight to my belly.

I used to think “muffin top” was just a figure of speech. Now? Let’s just say, I’ve fully embraced stretchy pants and tunic tops. Tucking in t-shirts? Rather not anymore. I still move, I still eat my greens—but I need to learn to forgive and love my new me, because honestly, life’s too short to hate your reflection over a few inches of hormone real estate.

The Bright Side 🌈

Now, here’s the part nobody talks about enough: there are upsides to menopause.

• No more periods (hallelujah, goodbye tampons forever).

• No more pregnancy scares (best. news. ever).

• A confidence glow-up. Something about this stage of life makes me less apologetic and more “this is who I am—take it or leave it.”

• And wisdom. I’ve lived through enough decades to know that hot flashes don’t define me, brain fog won’t defeat me, and my stretchy pants are fabulous.

Final Thought

So here I am, sweaty, sometimes cranky, occasionally forgetful, but still standing. Menopause isn’t glamorous, but it’s also not the end of the world—it’s just another chapter. A messy, funny, uncomfortable, liberating chapter.

Dear Diary, today’s lesson is this: if I can laugh through hot flashes, mood swings, and 3 a.m. insomnia, I can pretty much handle anything life throws my way.

Now excuse me while I fan myself dramatically and pour a glass of wine. 🍷

Yours in sweat and survival,

Me