Don’t get me wrong, being menopausal didn’t mean I expected pity or special treatment.
But I also didn’t expect my own husband to turn it into a punchline.
It started innocently enough as “jokes,” as he called them.
A smirk when I opened the freezer and leaned into the cold.
He’d say, elbowing me with a grin.
Then came the forgetfulness. I once lost my car keys and heard him mutter, “Menopause brain strikes again!” He’d chuckle as if that softened the blow.
Or if I didn’t remember something, he’d say, “She forgot again — blame the hormones,” and laugh.
Like that made it okay.
At first, it was at home. Then it crept into dinners with friends, family barbecues (BBQs), and neighborhood gatherings. I was mortified!
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