Steering Through the Crossroad of Puberty and Perimenopause

This past morning, a loud, distressing cry echoed from across our apartment. I dashed over to find my 12-year-old daughter curled up in front of her closet, engulfed by a heap of clothes. “I have NOTHING TO WEAR!” she lamented from her fetal position. “Everything looks so BAAAAAAAD! I can’t go out like this!!!!”

Dear reader, she has an abundance of “good” clothing. New outfits and hand-me-downs from incredibly trendy teenagers we know. Yet, this didn’t matter — nothing suited her growing body today. And, as with so many situations involving pre-teens, today felt like a crisis.

In my effort to assist, I pulled one item after another — this? this? — but she simply shouted, “It’s ugly!! It’s all so UGLY!!!!”

My initial response was, naturally, complete irritation. We had places to go. “Wear what you wore yesterday!” I wanted to shout back. “You liked it then! It’s still fine.”

However, I had a secret I couldn’t disclose: my bed was also covered with rejected clothes. T-shirts, blouses, jeans, jumpsuits, dresses, all the items I had tried on that very morning that didn’t fit either. I, too, was grappling with a disdain for every single piece of clothing I owned, unable to see my body represented in them. I also felt like everything appeared and felt utterly awful and wrong. I, too, was reluctant to leave the house.

Puberty, meet perimenopause.

***

Both transitional periods evoke my favorite quote by Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön: “Sudden is the result of a lot of gradual.”

I’m now 47, and for years, I’ve been registering small shifts in my body — my periods have been becoming heavier and more frequent; I’m noticing strange spots on my face that require freezing by the dermatologist; my weight has been steadily increasing; I experience such severe brain fog and forgetfulness that until my friends admitted they were also struggling with memory issues, I feared I might have early-onset Alzheimer’s. (I recently asked a group of my girlfriends, “What’s that thing you put on the table during a dinner party for water?” “A pitcher?” one offered helpfully.)

It was all somewhat amusing until one day, seemingly out of nowhere, nothing fit. Not the denim jumpsuit I’d loved for years, nor the T-shirts I frequently lived in. Jeans I had just bought were too tight. My bras pinched uncomfortably. Had I altered anything in my eating or exercise routines? No. It was merely my shifting hormones taking a toll on my wardrobe.

Other odd, unexplainable changes occurred: my skin felt sensitive; my scalp was itchy; my sore breasts seemed to be growing (!?). I felt incredibly fatigued, even after a full night’s sleep. My cholesterol spiked remarkably. I felt less in control of my emotional state than ever – my urge to slam doors was as powerful as it had been during the most daunting months of lockdown.

My body — my entire essence, truly — felt entirely beyond my control, just as my daughter’s did to her. And it was happening simultaneously!

A considerable amount has been discussed regarding puberty, of course. Both my daughter and I have read Judy Blume’s entire collection multiple times, devoured the extensive Baby-Sitters Club series, and engaged with all those The Care and Keeping of You books. We’ve conversed about breasts and periods, and she has a small pouch ready in her backpack for when that time arrives. Whenever my daughter finds herself crumpled on the floor, sobbing about who-knows-what, we’ve often discussed how hormones can surge through one’s body, and how it’s normal and will eventually pass. I attempt to make the entire experience feel as natural — and open — as possible.

Conversely, there is so much less knowledge regarding the decline of our fertile years. Nevertheless, I feel incredibly fortunate to be experiencing perimenopause at a time when it is prominently featured in our cultural dialogue. My social media feeds are rich with female doctors specializing in The Transition, and I’ve tuned into a staggering number of podcasts and read countless books — The New Menopause, Grown Woman Talk, How to Menopause. I follow Dr. Jen Gunter, Dr. Amy Shah, Dr. Kelly Casperson, and many others on social media. I am prioritizing protein intake and weight lifting; I’m incorporating fiber and cutting back on alcohol. I’ve scheduled an appointment with my ob-gyn to discuss hormone replacement therapy. Like my daughter, I am discovering how to navigate this new phase of my life.

I had hoped that experiencing perimenopause concurrently with my daughter’s journey through puberty would enhance my empathy and patience for her — I could directly relate to the hormonal fluctuations, the strangeness of inhabiting a morphing body, and the mood swings! But it turns out the opposite is true: she is helping me. Observing her navigate the inevitable transformations serves as a reminder that what I am experiencing is genuine, too.

Unlike our mothers, who were advised to endure the hot flashes, night sweats, brain fog, weight gain, rage, and sleepless nights, I am learning to treat my own transition with the same respect, curiosity, care, and medical attention that I wish for my daughter to extend to hers.

I, too, am adjusting to my changing body. I, too, occasionally find myself weeping without cause. I, too, am grieving the conclusion of one chapter of my life — creating little ones! — and bravely stepping into what lies ahead. I, too, fear aging. My face, breasts, hips, and belly have begun to look and feel different. My emotions seem amplified. And I’m teaching myself that this is as normal as it was when it happened to me in the opposite direction, 35 years ago.

As I watch my daughter transition into this new phase of her life, it’s clear to me what a monumental, challenging, beautiful experience it is to become a woman. I want her to traverse it with strength, self-love, and patience. And she is inspiring me to desire that for myself, too.

Abigail Rasminsky is a writer and editor situated in Los Angeles. She imparts creative writing lessons at the Keck School of Medicine of USC and produces the weekly newsletter, People + Bodies. She has also contributed to Cup of Jo on various topics, including marriage, preteens, loss, and only children.

P.S. Perimenopause: the board game and welcome to your cronehood. Also, 11 pressing questions for an ob-gyn.

(Photo by Anna Malkova/Stocksy.)