Perimenopause, Sexuality, Eroticism, and Mind F*cks

Your body is still a playground, no matter what changes have happened or are happening.

Photo by Caique Nascimento on Unsplash

I am perimenopausal, which is basically purgatory for people with ovaries. You’re not quite old enough to be an “elder” yet, but you’re no longer considered young. It’s that awkward in-between stage where your body starts behaving differently, and you can no longer rely on your old standby coping mechanisms.

In simple terms, it's puberty in the other direction.

Which is mostly not a bad thing. I mean, sure, there are the hot flashes and night sweats. But there’s also the freedom to lean into your muchness without giving a fuck. So it’s kind of a trade-off.

And yes, I still have (invisible) periods. But they’re more like a performance art piece at this point. Sporadic and unpredictable, with no discernible pattern. They’re like a beautiful rogue wave that comes out of nowhere and smacks you in the face.

And then there's the sex.

At this point in my life, I realize that pleasure and connection are essential components of my well-being.

For me, sex is an expression of my aliveness. It's one of the ways I nurture myself and my relationship. And it's a way to feel connected to —everything.

And while the changes that accompany perimenopause have made sex more, how can I say... interesting. It has also been a permission slip to let go of old ideas about what sex should look like.

Now, I'm not saying that perimenopause is all rainbows and unicorns. But it has been a fascinating journey so far.

Is sexuality a strength or a weakness?