Menopause, Mood Swings & Why I Cried Over a Chicken
It was 3:26 p.m. on a Tuesday. I had just pulled a rotisserie chicken out of the grocery bag, and I stood there staring at it like it had personally betrayed me.
And then — I cried.
Not a misty-eyed sniffle. No. I wept. Full-body, shoulders-shaking, what-is-even-happening sobs… over a $7.98 lemon-pepper chicken.
And if that’s not the most midlife, hormone-drenched plot twist ever… I don’t know what is.
Let’s Talk About the Thing No One Preps You For
Menopause. Perimenopause. The in-between of becoming not-you and also more-you-than-ever.
No one warned me that one day I’d be screaming at the thermostat, crying at soft rock songs, and wanting to punch a wall and hug a tree in the same 90 seconds.
I knew hot flashes were coming. I’d heard whispers about the sleep issues. But nobody told me about the emotional whiplash. The identity fog. The sense that you’re unraveling and being re-stitched at the same time.
I’m Not Crazy. I’m in Transition.
And maybe that’s the most important thing I’ve learned:
This isn’t a breakdown.
It’s a recalibration.
Midlife is where the mask starts slipping — not because you’ve failed to hold it up, but because you finally stopped wanting to.
And when the hormones start shifting, they bring everything else with them: your patience, your memory, your sex drive, your jeans.
But also?
Your self-respect. Your boundaries. Your clarity. Your voice.
I’m Letting It Be Messy
Here’s what I’ve stopped doing:
Apologizing for my tears
Pretending I’m “fine” when I’m clearly unraveling
Comparing my 50-year-old energy to my 30-year-old self
And here’s what I’m leaning into:
Speaking up (even when my voice shakes)
Napping when I need to
Laughing at the absurdity of crying over chicken
Sister, If You’re in It Too…
I see you.
If you're crying in your car or sweating in a cardigan or forgetting why you walked into a room — I see you.
You are not broken.
You are becoming.
And we don’t have to go through this alone.
Tell Me...
What’s your “midlife meltdown” moment? Have you cried over food? Forgotten your own birthday? Wanted to scream at someone for breathing?
You’re not alone. And you’re not crazy.
You’re just in the thick of the becoming. And I’m right here with you.
With Love From Mabank,
Brandy
