Perimenopause Gave Me a Blog

Me, years ago when I first started working on So This is Freaking 50.

Let me just say this right out the gate: We should’ve had a meeting years ago. Meaning this blog. But I kept putting it off. When I think of the impact I could've made years ago sharing my meonpausal ordeals, I want to scream at myself (And I did. I promise it wasn't because of my hormones).

Truth be told, I was probably in perimenopause at 35. Did I know that?Absolutely not.

No one handed me a pamphlet, pulled me aside, or said, “Hey sis, there are 34 symptoms of perimenopause—heads up.”

Nope. I just thought I was tired, moody, overwhelmed, and maybe a little dramatic (okay, maybe a lot dramatic).

So when everything started to shift—my mood, my body, my memory, my skin, my hair, my everything—I did what I always do when I need to figure things out: I started writing.

At first, it was a book. Think The Devil Wears Prada meets menopause rage, meets Bridget Jones’s Diary meets Eat Pray Love. It was part fiction, part therapy, and fully fueled by hot flashes and hormone spirals.

Sneak Peek: So This Is Freaking 50 (The Book)

Opening Scene:

“Who I gotta kill?” Rena asked, sounding like she was hopping out of bed, grabbing her baseball bat and keys, and heading for the door.

“I don’t know,” I cried into the phone. “My mother, my genetics, the testosterone in my body... God?”

“Stop crying and tell me exactly what happened!”

“It’s about an inch long.”

“What is?”

“The hair... Sticking out of my areola.”

There was silence on the other end of the line as I sobbed.

Yeah. It starts there. And it only gets funnier, messier, and more honest from that point on.

(Want early sneak peeks? Subscribe to the email list, and also be the first to know when the book drops)

That story is still in the works (stay tuned—it's juicy), but in the process, I realized I needed more than a book. I needed a community. A place for real talk, deep laughs, and a sisterhood of women trying to make sense of this wild, sweaty, sacred season.

And that’s how So This Is Freaking 50 was born.

I started So This Is Freaking 50 because I needed a space that was:

• Real – No filters, no pretending we’ve got it all together

• Relatable – Because I know I’m not the only one who’s yelled “WHERE ARE MY GLASSES” while wearing them.

• Faith-filled – Jesus is definitely walking me through this (with a fan in one hand and grace in the other)

• Funny – Because if I don’t laugh about it, I’m just crying into my heating pad

  
  

This blog is for every woman who's somewhere between “Do I need hormone therapy?” and “Who am I now?”

It’s not about “fixing” yourself. It’s about finding yourself again—in the middle of the mess, the mood swings, and the miracle of growing older.

And sis, you can complain about getting older if you want, but at least we're still here getting a chance to see another day. And we're so much wiser than these young nuckleheads (no offense, Gen Z—we love you… from afar).

So if you’re feeling off, overlooked, or over it… If your body is doing things you did not approve, and your soul is asking for something deeper—Pull up a seat, sis.

We’re not disappearing.

We’re rising—louder, softer, stronger.

We're not stepping back, but stepping forward—front of the line, bold and unbothered.

We’re here. And they're going to take notice.

Welcome to So This Is Freaking 50. You’re home now.

And hey—if you’re wondering what those 34 perimenopause symptoms actually are (because yes, there are that many)…

Drop a comment and subscribe to the email list (honey, I can't send it without your email), and I’ll send you the full list.

Until the next hot flash…

 💋 LB