I have discovered a truth that has been hidden from us women, and I want to share it with you.
Menopause is not real. At least not the part where your period actually stops.
I know, I know! It’s hard to believe, nay impossible. But it’s true. Legions of people who identify as women will want to argue with me, well, at least those who are over the age of 40. These legions will say, but Sandy, what about me? I don’t have my period anymore. You actually do, you just were gaslighted to think you don’t.
But Sandy, they will say, what about the mountains of scientific journals and self help guides? That is all just money-making clap trap to make you buy herbal supplements, meditation retreats, and tickets to “Menopause the Musical.”
But Sandy, they will say, how do you know this is true?
And I will say, that I am living proof that menopause doesn’t exist. I am 56 years old. FIFTY-SIX. Five decades, plus 6 years. I have had symptoms that my period was “getting ready to stop” since I was 38. Mostly emotional ones. The physical symptoms of the irregular period or skipping a month here and there have been non-existent. For the past 6 or 7 years, I have gotten my period more regularly than when I was in my prime child-bearing years. Every month between 24 and 26 days, which over that amount of time adds up to…
Way more effing periods than a woman should have to deal with. That average of every 28 days can stick it up its ass.
And now I’ve moved into the taunting period of my period, if you will. In July I had a period, and then I didn’t have another one for nearly 3 months. I was cautiously optimistic. Maybe this is the beginning of the end, I thought. I even dared hope this could be the end. Like a baby who never crawls, but one day, just when his parents despair of the kid ever being mobile, gets up off his little baby butt and starts toddling away. And then the parents discover a fresh hell. Maybe my period would realize it’s been a very bad period going on so long, and it would just stop. I’m an outlier on everything else, maybe I could be an outlier on this one thing too.
Off course, I can’t, because menopause is fake news!
In early October, I got a little spotting. Annoying, but still a good sign, right? Like the first talks in negotiating a surrender. OK, it’s not giving up yet, but clearly the fight is going out of it. A little spot just to remind me it ain’t over yet. Fine. Time is on my side, bitch.
Or is it? Three weeks later, I got a full on period, a doozy too. Had to pull out the heating pad because my back hurt like I was giving birth, and I used up all of what I had thought of “The last effing tampons and pads I will ever have to buy in my life.” So now I’m pissed off and out of tampons.
If the websites and books are to be believed, which they absolutely should not be, the clock starts again as to when I am considered to be in menopause. I will be FIFTY-SEVEN when that happens. Five decades and 7 years. It’s like my period is staring at me across that negotiation table with a guerilla army behind her laughing in my face and saying, “Bitch I could do this all decade.”
Or for the rest of my life. And so I submit to you, dear reader, there is a lot of real news out there, but menopause? Totally fake news.