Navigating Perimenopause With Grace (Most Days)

The Emotional Surprise Package

Ever since I hit perimenopause, life has gotten a little bit… interesting. I thought I was prepared. I read the articles, watched the videos, and nodded along when they mentioned the infamous rage. But no one told me I might end up sobbing into my tea because I remembered a song my dad used to play. Or that I would question every decision I’ve made in my life while curled up with a hot water bottle.

For me, it hasn’t been the anger so much as the sadness and self-doubt. I cry at the drop of a hat. A sweet advert? Tears. A kind message from a friend? More tears. Something going slightly wrong? Floodgates open. It’s like all my emotions decided to pop round for a visit and then never left. And underneath it all, there’s this hum of “Am I still good enough? Am I still wanted?”

Navigating these emotions means I’ve had to be gentler with myself. It hasn’t been about fixing or controlling them, but about making space to feel what I feel without shame. I’ve started talking more openly with my friends, and unsurprisingly, many are in the same boat. There’s something powerful about being able to say, “This is really hard right now,” and not having to pretend you’ve got it all together.

A Whole New Period Experience

You’d think by now I’d be a pro at periods. But perimenopause had other ideas. One month it’s light and barely noticeable. The next, it’s a dramatic, bloated, cramp-filled experience that knocks me flat. And then just as I’m finding my footing, it shifts again. My body has become a bit of a mystery.

There’s also the matter of timing. My once-reliable cycle now likes to play hide and seek. I’ve learnt to carry supplies in every bag, just in case. I’ve also become weirdly intuitive with my body. I can usually tell when something’s brewing, but even then, it doesn’t always go how I expect. It’s unpredictable and sometimes inconvenient, but I’m learning to flow with it, pun slightly intended.

This chaos has made me slow down. I plan quieter days when I know my energy will be low. I keep a heating pad by the bed, and peppermint tea stocked in the pantry. It’s not about fixing things, it’s about responding with care. My body is asking for something different now, and it’s taken time, but I’m learning how to listen.

The Great Libido Mystery Tour

Ah yes, the libido. Mine has gone on some kind of solo backpacking trip. Sometimes it comes roaring back unexpectedly, other times it feels like it’s off somewhere in the mountains with no reception. I’ve stopped trying to predict it. Instead, I’ve been focusing on reconnecting with myself, with touch, with pleasure that isn’t necessarily sexual.

It’s strange and sometimes frustrating. I don’t always feel like myself, and I’ve had moments where I’ve wondered if I’m broken. But the truth is, my body is doing a lot. Hormones are shifting, sleep is erratic, my skin is changing. Libido doesn’t live in isolation, and I’m beginning to see it more as a reflection of how I’m caring for myself.

What has helped the most is removing the pressure. It’s okay if I don’t feel sexy every day. It’s okay if that spark comes and goes. I’m not defined by it. I’m still me. Learning to laugh a little about it helps. So does talking to friends who get it. Sometimes the most reassuring thing in the world is hearing someone say, “Oh god, same!”

The Hot and Bothered Hour

Let’s talk about night sweats. Honestly, I thought it was a myth or something that only happened to a select few. But here I am, waking up in the middle of the night like I’ve run a marathon in my sleep. My pyjamas are drenched, the sheets feel damp, and I’m flipping my pillow to find the cool side like it’s a sport.

It’s not just at night either. Some days I’ll be standing in the kitchen and suddenly feel like I’m overheating from the inside out. Like a human oven. I’ve taken to dressing in layers, having a fan nearby, and occasionally sticking my head in the fridge for a moment of relief. It’s both comical and infuriating.

The worst part is the unpredictability. I never know when it’ll strike. But I’ve started preparing for it, just in case. Light bedding, a cooling spray on the bedside table, and choosing fabrics that breathe a bit better. It’s not perfect, but it helps. And somehow, sweating through the night feels slightly more manageable when you know you’re not the only one waking up soggy and swearing.

Sleepy, All the Time

Oddly enough, while many people talk about insomnia during perimenopause, I’ve had the opposite problem. I’m sleepier than ever. I can nap at the drop of a hat, and bedtime calls to me earlier each evening like some kind of cosy siren song. My body seems to be in a constant state of wanting to rest.

At first, I tried to fight it. I pushed through the tiredness, thinking I was just being lazy. But eventually, I realised my body was genuinely asking for more rest. These hormonal shifts are exhausting, and pretending they’re not doesn’t do me any favours. So now, I let myself rest more without guilt.

I’ve created little rituals around sleep. Warm tea, soft lighting, stretching, and even essential oils in my diffuser. I don’t always get the deepest sleep, especially with the night sweats, but I give myself the gift of rest when I can. And it turns out, permission to slow down has been one of the most healing parts of this journey.

What I’m Still Learning

Perimenopause isn’t something you conquer. It’s something you live through. Some days I feel strong and calm and wise. Other days I feel like I’m falling apart. Both are true. And I’ve come to believe that grace isn’t about having it all together, but about holding yourself kindly when everything feels messy.

I’m learning to rest more. To eat foods that nourish me rather than spike and crash my energy. To say no without guilt. I’ve cut back on caffeine and started taking magnesium, and while it hasn’t fixed everything, it’s helped. Mostly, I’ve stopped pretending that this isn’t a big change. It is. And it deserves to be acknowledged.

If you’re in the middle of it too, just know you’re not alone. Your experience might not look like mine, but it’s still valid. Maybe you’ve got the rage, or the brain fog, or the night sweats. Maybe it’s all of the above. It’s hard. And you’re still doing an incredible job.

Perimenopause didn’t come to play – but neither did I. I’ve got green tea, stretchy pants, and zero tolerance for nonsense.

Final Thoughts

You don’t have to push through every symptom. You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to say, “This is too much today.” And you’re allowed to cry for no reason and still be completely capable. Perimenopause doesn’t take away your power, but it does ask you to find new ways of holding it.

Be curious with your body, even when it confuses you. Track your cycle, even if it’s erratic. Speak kindly to yourself, especially when the mirror feels unfamiliar. You are changing, yes. But change isn’t loss. It’s evolution. It’s becoming.

And on the days when everything feels too much, wrap yourself up in something soft, make a cup of tea, and remind yourself: you are not broken, you are just becoming someone new. Someone softer, wiser, and more deeply in tune with what it means to live with grace, most days.

We Need to Stop Clapping for Basic Decency – Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity

In today's episode of Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity, we're unpacking why we need to stop clapping for basic decency. You know the script. A man texts back within twenty-four hours and we're screenshotting it to the group chat. A man plans a date more than three hours in advance and we call him a unicorn. A man manages to listen, pay attention, and behave like a fully formed adult, and our nervous systems short-circuit because we genuinely don't know how to receive it.Here's the truth nobody is saying out loud. The bar has been dragged so low that Satan himself needs a chiropractor after a competitive round of limbo. We've been culturally trained to be grateful for behaviour that should not require gratitude. We've been told these things are bonuses when they're actually the entry requirement. And in the meantime, women have been quietly doing the basic decency thing forever, without applause, while men get standing ovations for outputs we generated for them.Today we're talking about why a great man is genuinely just an average woman, who benefits when the bar stays low, the invisible labour women have been performing for free for centuries, and the friend-test that cuts straight through every excuse we've ever made for mediocre men. Let's get into it.For more visit  BryJaimea.com or follow over on IG  @BryJaimea

1. We Need to Stop Clapping for Basic Decency 11:56
2. The Wine Aunt Manifesto 16:21
3. Who Said Anything About a Crisis? 13:07

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