Aliyawanders

When I was younger, I thought perimenopause meant one thing.

Hot flushes.

You know… dramatically fanning yourself with the nearest menu while declaring, “Is it hot in here?”

Apparently, my ovaries didn’t get that memo.

Instead, they quietly downloaded a completely different update with no warning, no release note and no “Accept” button.

For me, it didn’t begin with hot flushes.

It began with waking up in the middle of the night. Every. Single. Night.

Not because I needed the toilet.
Not because of a nightmare.

Just… awake.

Then came the broken sleep. Eight hours in bed but somehow waking up feeling like I’d spent the night fighting zombies instead of sleeping.

Then my brain decided that simple words were optional.

The funny thing is, I haven’t forgotten the complicated stuff. Twenty years in financial planning means product names, regulations and technical terms are practically engraved into my soul.

It’s the everyday words that have abandoned me.

I know exactly what I want to say…

“The… the… you know… that… thing…”

Thing.

Everything has become “thing.”

I’ve gone completely bye-lingual.

Not bilingual.

Bye-lingual.

The word waves goodbye, walks out of the room, and leaves me pointing dramatically at random objects while hoping someone can guess what I’m trying to say.

Then there was the forgetfulness.

Not the dramatic “Where am I?” kind.

More like…

“Where are my keys?”

“Has anyone seen my headphones?”

“The big headphones. The really big ones. How do you even lose something that size?”

And then there are my AirPods.

At this point, I’ve accepted that I don’t own them anymore.

They own themselves.

They’re somewhere in this house. I know they are.

I’ve stopped searching.

I’ve simply resigned myself to fate and am waiting for the AirPods to decide they’re ready to be found.

When that glorious day comes, I’ll probably discover them in a place I checked seventeen times.

My body joined the rebellion too.

My joints started protesting every morning.

My muscles ached for absolutely no reason.

Strength I used to take for granted quietly disappeared.

And despite eating more mindfully than I did in my thirties…

My tummy apparently had different plans.

Hello, belly.

Nice of you to arrive uninvited.

Bloating became another regular guest.

Some days I looked six months pregnant after dinner.

Then, just when I thought puberty and I had officially broken up decades ago…

Acne came back.

Seriously?

I’m in perimenopause and my hormones apparently couldn’t decide whether I’m 16 or 45.

Rude.

The funny thing is, because nobody talks about these symptoms enough, I genuinely wondered whether I was imagining them.

Maybe I wasn’t sleeping enough.

Maybe I was stressed.

Maybe I was just getting older.

Then… something interesting happened.

Content about perimenopause suddenly started taking over my FYP.

One video.

Then another.

Then another.

Apparently, my social media apps had been quietly observing me all along.

Well… thank you, you creepy little stalkers. I guest…

For once, your unhealthy obsession with tracking everything I do actually proved useful.

As I watched more videos and read more posts, women started describing symptoms that sounded uncannily familiar.

Broken sleep.

Brain fog.

Words disappearing mid-sentence.

Joint pain.

Muscle aches.

Reduced strength.

Weight gain around the middle.

Bloating.

Adult acne.

Hang on…

That’s me.

Not every symptom.

Not exactly the same journey.

But enough of them that I finally stopped wondering whether I was just “getting old.”

Turns out, my hormones had simply decided to rewrite the rules without consulting me first.

The biggest surprise?

Perimenopause doesn’t look the same for everyone.

Some women get the classic hot flushes.

Others get anxiety.

Some get migraines.

Some get irregular periods.

Some of us get a vocabulary that randomly goes on annual leave and AirPods that develop independent lives.

I wish someone had told me earlier that it isn’t just about periods stopping.

It’s a transition that can affect your sleep, your muscles, your skin, your memory, and your patience.

Knowing that doesn’t magically make the symptoms disappear.

But it does make one thing disappear.

That nagging feeling that you’re somehow “losing it.”

If you’re reading this while trying to remember where you put your keys…

…or what that everyday word was…

Welcome.

Pull up a chair.

Apparently, there are more of us than we realise.

And if social media has suddenly started flooding your FYP with perimenopause content…

Maybe don’t be too quick to complain about the algorithm.

It might just know something your ovaries forgot to tell you.

Disclaimer: This post reflects my personal journey and experiences and should not be taken as medical advice or a diagnosis. The symptoms I share are commonly reported during perimenopause, but they are not specific to perimenopause and may also be caused by other medical conditions, including thyroid disorders, vitamin or iron deficiencies, autoimmune diseases, chronic stress, medication side effects, or other health issues. Everyone’s experience is different. If you’re experiencing persistent or concerning symptoms, please consult a qualified healthcare professional for a proper evaluation and diagnosis.