Some days my biggest accomplishment is knowing I got through menopause without a felony. I'm not joking. I want full credit for that. Nobody talks about the sheer effort of being a reasonable human being when your hormones are staging a coup, you haven't slept properly in three years, and someone has the audacity to breathe too loudly near you. I read three books at a time. I have three degrees - one in business/marketing and two in engineering. I have competed in national pool tournaments. I've spoken from the stage in front of 500 people. I've been the last minute stand-in at business conferences to speak, to run workshops. I've been on livestreams and good ole fashioned television...interviewed by experts and novices. And I kept my composure under pressure. None of that prepared me for perimenopause at the grocery store when the woman behind me piling all her groceries next to mine on the conveyor belt at the grocery store, ignoring the divider I set up for her. Or the instant rage when some young jerk driver speeds up to pass me then cuts in front of me, fast and too close, without a blinker. Well, as you know, there's a lot more, right? So, if you're in it right now — or coming out the other side — I just want you to know: surviving it with your relationships and your freedom intact is a legitimate achievement. Put it on your résumé. Tell your doctor. Tell your lawyer, just in case. You're doing better than you think. ❤️ What got you through? Drop it below — I'm collecting survival strategies. Oh, and now that I'm through, I have a few strategies I can share - if you're interested. You'll have to tell me in the comments.

I felt out of control. People were backing away from me when I talked to them. I thought I was expressing myself in a clear and quiet way. Turns out I had an angry look on my face and my words were said harshly. The self-awareness I had worked so hard on throughout my adult life went out the window. Perimenopause stepped in and turned me into someone I didn't recognize. To save my sanity, my marriage, and my relationships with colleagues, I paid close attention to what I was eating, drinking, and feeling every day. Within a month I had changed a few things and they helped me live in the world ... a bit easier. I didn't sweat as much at night, my hot flashes stopped, my emotional rollercoaster was reduced to occasional spikes. --- I stopped caffeine. All caffeine. Replaced it with water. Sometimes with lemonade. After a few months I brought coffee back to my mornings. Only 2 cups. --- Whole foods with occasional sweet treats. Didn't take long for me to feel the emotional change when I ate too much sugar or drank too much caffeine. Sugar = ice cream, cookies, candy, packaged foods, in my coffee, in my tea. Removed for a while and slowly introduced to be in my coffee. --- Deep body scan meditation before I went to sleep. I started at my toes and worked my way up to the top of my head, imagining a healing light as I scanned. Once again, I knew my body - inside and out - intimately. --- 3 Breath Count - anytime I felt a strong emotion, I took 3 deep breaths. Through each one I thought about what had happened, I took the time to get clarity on how I was feeling. Was it appropriate for the situation? Was it important enough to risk saying what I thought? Most often than not, the answer was no. --- Stationery bike for 15-20 minute rides each day. Sometimes quite vigorous (great way to get the aggression out). --- Holding up my finger, asking the person to wait a moment, as I turned away long enough to deep breathe. --- Watching and reading comedy. Laughter at others and myself, even when I wasn't sure I felt like laughing, increased my endorphin levels and relieved the stress/aggression I felt.

Here’s a tiny challenge for you today — one that might feel a little silly but totally works: Look in the mirror and say, “I am stronger because of my challenges.” Feels weird at first, right? But then something shifts. Your shoulders drop. You breathe a little deeper. You remember, “Hey, I’ve been through a lot. And I’m still standing.” 💪 These affirmations aren’t just fluff — they’re daily reminders of your resilience. They build confidence like compounding interest. So whether today’s challenge is an overflowing inbox, a tough client, or just remembering to drink water before your third coffee... take 3 seconds for this mirror moment. You’ve got this.

I read an article recently that called caregivers superheroes. That did not land well with me. I know it comes from a good place. But that word carries a hidden burden. When someone gets called a superhero, there's an unspoken rule attached — superheroes don't break down. 😭 They don't cry at midnight because the pharmacy messed up a refill again. 😨 They don't lie awake wondering how much longer they can keep this up before their own health starts to collapse. Real caregivers live in a much messier reality than that. I watched Charlene as she helped care for her dying mother. I listened closely to a friend as she slowly fell apart...no one in her family was giving her relief from caring for their father. I met a woman who cared for her husband as he struggled and suffered and deteriorated from Parkinson's Disease. Caregiving doesn't pause your life in a dramatic way. It's slow and quiet. Opportunities pass. Friendships thin out. Career momentum stalls. Your savings shrink. Your nervous system stays on permanent low-level alert — waiting for the next fall, the next fever, the next call. And when it finally slows down? The body doesn't always get the memo. Many caregivers spend months — sometimes years — trying to feel like themselves again. Yes, there is love in caregiving. But love isn't the only feeling in the room. There's resentment. There's grief. There's the strange, complicated mix of showing up every single day while quietly wondering what your life might have looked like otherwise. Some caregivers are caring for people who never cared for them well. The friend with a father she was caring for, was raised being beaten by that same father. It's the reason her siblings have no interest in helping her...because it means helping him. That's a weight that doesn't fit into any heroic story. These feelings aren't signs of failure. They are normal human responses to prolonged, unrelenting strain. When we only frame caregiving as noble sacrifice, those feelings get pushed underground. And the label meant to honor ends up silencing.