A couple talking over coffee at a kitchen table
For the two of you

The Same Language

What she's actually saying. What he's actually hearing. Real translations for the moments perimenopause makes hard.

Most of the fights aren't about what they look like they're about.

You already know the mustard one. Someone asks a simple question and the answer comes back three sizes too big, and then you both sit in it for the rest of the night.

Here are three more, broken down the same way. What happened. What was going on underneath for each of you. And what it sounds like when you both have the words.

At the end of each one there's a question to ask each other. Those are the actual work. The translations help you understand a moment after it's over. The questions help you get ahead of the next one.

One thing before you start. I've written these as her and him because that's my marriage and I'm speaking from my own experience. They apply to any couple where one person is experiencing the realities of perimenopause and the other is trying to make sense of it. Swap the names to fit your house.

Moment one

She pulls away when you reach for her

The moment

He sits down next to her and puts a hand on her leg. She shifts, just slightly, and he feels it. Neither of them says anything about it.

What's going on underneath
Her

I know you notice that I pull away when you touch me. And me saying "it's not you" feels so inadequate and dismissive. I don't even understand why I feel like this but I know I'm hurting you every time it happens.

Him

I've stopped reaching for you because I can tell it bothers you. I don't understand why and I feel like you've completely lost interest in me and would just be happier if I never even tried to touch you.

With a shared language
Her

Today is an overstimulated and uncomfortable in my own skin day. I don't want to reject you so I'm telling you in advance.

Him

Yep. I'm right here. Tell me when that changes.

Ask each other

When touch isn't landing, what do you want instead? And what should I do with the no so it doesn't turn into a wall?

Moment two

The appointment that went nowhere

The moment

He wakes at 3am. She's sitting on the side of the bed, crying. He says, carefully, “Maybe you should see somebody about this.” She doesn't look up. “I did. Six months ago.”

What's going on underneath
Her

I actually went to the doctor, but it felt pretty useless. Almost like a total waste of time. I was told I'm too young to be in perimenopause, and I'm 47. The doctor wasn't mean, she just seemed distracted and kind of frazzled. She said she was running behind. At the end of the appointment, she told me there isn't much anyone can do that's safe despite what you're hearing online, and that I'll just have to get through it like everyone else. The truth is, I don't have the energy to try again with everything else I have going on.

Him

I didn't even know you went to the doctor and now, months later, you're telling me that she didn't help you at all. I really want you to get the help that you need, but I'm afraid I'll annoy you or make you mad by asking if you want to try to schedule another appointment.

With a shared language
Her

I went in June. She told me to get through it like everyone else. I haven't had it in me to start over.

Him

That's garbage, and I'm sorry. Do you want me to find someone who actually knows this, or do you want me to leave it alone for now?

Ask each other

When something hard is happening, do you want me to help find the next step, or do you want me to just listen? How will I know which one it is?

Moment three

She goes quiet

The moment

An hour of nothing. She's in the other room. He's running back through the last conversation trying to find the part where he screwed up.

What's going on underneath
Her

My silence isn't anger at you. It's me trying not to blow everything up including my own life.

Him

When you go quiet I assume I did something wrong.

With a shared language
Her

I'm just too flooded, tired, and don't want to start crying so I'm staying away for now.

Him

Got it. I'll be downstairs.

Ask each other

What's our secret password for “I need a minute and this isn't about you.” My husband and I say “salem witch trials.”

The real work

Ask these on a good day

Not mid-fight. Not at 11pm. On an ordinary Tuesday when nothing is on fire, because that's the only time either of you can answer honestly.

  • What does a bad day tend to look like, and do you have any clues I can know so I can notice?
  • What's most helpful and what's least helpful on those days?
  • How do we want to handle the times when neither of us knows how to hide our angst and frustration? Do we both need time and space? Does one of us need communication in order to feel safe? Are there some non-negotiables?
  • What's the thing you've stopped telling me because you didn't want to be a burden?
There are more

Want the rest of them?

We cover sex, our reflections in the mirror, and the missing that happens when we are right in front of each other. These are the hardest ones to say out loud, and they're the ones most likely to be sitting in your house tonight.

Built out the same way, with the questions.

Click here and I'll send you the rest
Sara and Mike with a cookie that reads I tolerate you

Sara and Mike on Valentine's Day.

Read them together if you can. That's the whole point.— Sara

I'm a menopause coach, not a clinician. Nothing here is medical advice. Read my full disclaimer.