I'm standing in front of my closet, a mountain of discarded clothes at my feet, fighting back tears. Nothing fits right. My favourite jeans mock me from their hanger. Did I not JUST buy these six months ago in a size up? Even my comfy sweaters seem to have shrunk overnight.
As I reach for yet another outfit, my hand trembles slightly — is it anger, frustration, or just another fun hormonal surprise?
Welcome to perimenopause, folks. It's like puberty's evil twin decided to crash my midlife party. Just when I thought I’d reclaimed my life as a woman, it’s all gone Pete Tong.
The "Just Do This" Chorus: A symphony of unhelpful advice
In June, I shared an Instagram post about how much approaching 50 was messing with me. I barely recognize the body I’m in, with the brain fog, moods, exhaustion, and weight gain. And for the most part, women of my generation who commented were all like, “YES!”
I do believe in sharing hardships in a world of highlight reels. Despite how lonely we might feel in our misery, chances are good that someone else out there is wondering, “Am I the only one who isn’t having fun? Am I the only one who thinks this current reality is BULLSHIT?”
The media has made strides in representing women over 50. (Though, I’d argue that the images of badass 50+ women who get a voice and an audience in the mainstream are still largely white and privileged. Let’s keep pushing for more representation.) Women can be anything! They just can’t be... honest.
Despite countless messages saying, "Thanks for saying the thing no one talks about," there’s also the "Just smile more" crowd. “Once you’re on the other side, it’s amazing!” Yes, thanks, Captain Obvious. That’s little comfort when you’re going through a hell you can’t control, though. The crème de la crème was someone who commented, "Stop trying to micromanage your life and just roll with it!" Hello, privileged white man friend! I love you dearly, but just NO.
I know I’ve been that person too. Like during the pandemic, when I thought hosting Zoom dance parties would save us all from a mental health crisis. If I did that to you, I’m sorry.
We don’t like other people’s vulnerability, do we? Why do we feel the need to whitewash someone’s peeling fence when they show us their truth? Maybe because facing someone else’s struggle forces us to confront our own. It’s easier to offer a quick fix than to sit with the discomfort of not having all the answers.
When good intentions go bad
AKA: The problem with oversimplification
Here's the thing: there's no "just" about it. Perimenopause isn’t a simple problem with a simple solution. It’s more like trying to assemble IKEA furniture… while blindfolded and drunk.
I'm mentally in a place where I can be truly happy for anyone who has found their peace and vital life energy through fitness, religion, or The Real Housewives. (Hey, no judgment here — if watching wealthy women throw wine at each other brings you zen, who am I to argue?)
Look, if it works for you, I’m thrilled! I'm not here to negate or invalidate what is making you feel better or even good. But don’t assume your remedy would also work for me if I "just tried harder."
Yes, EVEN if science agrees with you.
"Just exercise more!" they chirp, as if I haven't been trying to peel myself off the couch due to my brain lying to me for weeks.
"Just eat better!" they suggest, while I'm basically eating what I always have (high-fibre, flexitarian, Mediterranean) and still putting on pounds.
"Just meditate!" they advise, as my brain bounces between anxiety and rage like a caffeinated pinball.
“Just sleep more!” they insist, as if I know how to stop the squirrels that run around to the Benny Hill Theme in my head at midnight.
When we shut down someone's expression of pain because we think we know the path to salvation — even when our intentions are good — we are causing harm. It's like trying to fix a broken arm with a Band-Aid and a pep talk. Sure, you meant well, but now I've got a useless sticker on my arm and a bunch of platitude memes — oh, and I'm still in pain.
As the brilliant bell hooks once said, "Rarely, if ever, are any of us healed in isolation. Healing is an act of communion." We don't need isolation disguised as quick fixes. What we need is community, understanding, and genuine support.
How "Just do this" makes things worse
When we reduce perimenopause to a series of quick fixes, we're not only invalidating the very real struggles women face, we're setting them up for failure. Because when that "simple solution" doesn't work, guess who feels like they've screwed up? Yep, the woman who's already dealing with a hormonal hurricane (and also maybe teenagers, the rising cost of living, and aging parents). Would you tell someone to "just cheer up" during a Category 5 tornado?
Here’s why “just do it” only works for Nike ads:
It creates unnecessary guilt: When someone says, "Just exercise more" or "Just eat better," the underlying message is that you should be able to control what’s happening to your body. So, when you can’t, you feel like you're the problem. As if you’re not doing enough, not trying hard enough, or that somehow your suffering is a personal failure.
It overlooks individual complexity: The one-size-fits-all solution doesn’t consider our unique bodies, minds, and life circumstances. What works for someone else might not work for you — and that’s okay. We all have different health conditions, hormonal responses, or even mental health struggles that can make "just" advice feel dismissive and irrelevant.
It invalidates the emotional experience: Perimenopause isn’t just about physical symptoms. The research shows that the lack of estrogen and progesterone causes an emotional rollercoaster. By suggesting simple fixes, the emotional toll is minimized or ignored altogether.
You’re not just dealing with hot flashes or weight gain. No, you’re also navigating mood swings, anxiety, brain fog, and a profound sense of losing control over your body. Dismissing those emotions with a quick fix can make women feel unseen.It promotes toxic positivity: When people throw out "Just think positive!" or "You’ll feel better soon!" they often mean well. But it ignores or invalidates the fact that sometimes, it just sucks. And it’s okay to admit that.
No one needs the constant pressure to reframe a negative experience as a learning opportunity. Sometimes, you just need to vent, be heard, and be validated. (Yes, I’m still learning this with the people in my life too.)
As a writer and coach, I’ve studied how thoughts create feelings, which influence actions and, ultimately, life results. I’m all for being intentional. But here’s the twist: the "just think differently" approach doesn’t work for everyone.
For neurodiverse, marginalized, or traumatized individuals (and trust me, there's a lot of overlap in that Venn diagram), our responses often start as a feeling in the body we can't even name yet. It's like our bodies are speaking a language our brains haven't learned to translate. I’ll dive into this more in my next post.
How to actually support women in perimenopause
Spoiler alert: there’s no one-size-fits-all solution to perimenopause. What works for one woman might be useless (or even harmful) for another. Instead of offering a quick fix like "just do this," try these approaches that foster true support:
"That sounds tough. How can I support you?" — A simple question that offers help on their terms rather than assuming what they need.
"I'm here to listen if you want to talk." — Sometimes, the best thing you can offer is your presence, without judgment or advice.
"Want to grab a coffee and vent about [insert symptom here] together?" — Creating space to share frustrations in a casual, low-pressure way can help someone feel less isolated.
Remember, the most powerful thing we can do is acknowledge someone’s struggle. No fixes, no advice—just pure, unadulterated validation. Sometimes, all someone needs is to hear, "Yeah, this sucks, and I’m here with you."
Practical Support Beyond Listening:
Offer specific help: Instead of saying, "Let me know if you need anything," try offering something concrete, like "Can I pick up groceries for you?" or "Would you like to try a yoga class together?" (Yes, please invite me to your yoga or pilates class.)
Respect their pace: Healing and adjusting take time. Be patient and avoid pushing someone toward a solution they’re not ready for.
Share experiences carefully: If you’ve been through perimenopause, offer your story as solidarity, not as a blueprint. You can say, "I remember going through this — it was rough. Everyone's experience is different, though. Let me know if you want to talk."
True support is about being there without trying to fix things. It’s about creating space for someone to feel heard and validated in a world that too often dismisses their pain.
Time for a new approach to peri-struggles
If you've ever started a sentence with "You just need to…", take a deep breath. It's okay. We've all been there. But maybe it's time to pull up our big girl pants and accept that this approach might be causing more harm than good.
So, what now? Well, here's a radical idea: let's start by listening. Really listening. Not with the intent to fix or solve, but to understand and support. Let's create spaces where women can share their experiences without fear of judgment or unsolicited advice. If you know of such communities, please share them in the comments.
And for those of us in the thick of it? Be gentle with yourself. You're not failing at perimenopause — you're surviving it. And sometimes, that's more than enough.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to take a mental health walk. Grumbling all the way, of course. Because that's how we roll in perimenopauseland, and no amount of "just do this" is going to change that.
Join me for a mental health walk
PS: If you’re in Toronto (or just visiting), I’ve now set up a calendar for you to book a mental health walk with me!
You’ll do me a favour (get this ever-growing ass out of its chair), and we can just let the conversation flow tangentially in ADHD fashion. It’ll be fun!
Writing prompts/Reflection thought-starters
OK, I made these a mix of “help me identify what about all this is pissing me off” and a bit of “what’s funny about this?” Flip me an email, leave me a comment, or just doodle your answers during boring Zoom meetings. There’s no way to do this wrong. You’ll be surprised by how you change when you answer them though.
What's the most absurd "just do this" advice you've received about perimenopause or aging? How did it make you feel?
If you could design a "Perimenopause Survival Kit," what five items would you include and why?
Write a letter to your pre-perimenopause self. What would you want her to know about the journey ahead?
Describe a moment when someone's genuine listening and support made a difference during your perimenopause experience. What did they do or say that was helpful?
Imagine a conversation between your hormones and your brain during a typical day in perimenopause. What would they say to each other?
What's one societal expectation about aging that you'd like to challenge? How would challenging this expectation change your life or the lives of women around you?
If perimenopause were a person, what would you say to them in a face-to-face conversation?
What really resonates with me is "Be gentle with yourself." Sometimes, I feel like your inner voice can be so critical...and I say this as a Mom of three very direct kids!
Here's the article I referenced in my LI comment to your excellent post: https://www.sbs.com.au/news/article/flexible-work-more-education-senate-menopause-inquiry-delivers-recommendations/aejpm8pju
Another good read: https://www.forbes.com/sites/kalinabryant/2024/05/03/menopause-impact-on-womens-workplace-well-being-and-career-trajectory/
Through my menopause journey, research from Dr. Stacy Sims and Dr. Mary Claire has been hugely helpful in understanding this process and seeking treatment for many of my symptoms.