Let’s talk about Menopause, let us pause and reframe this sucker:
Menopause, as a fiery goddess in a shimmering red gown, wreathed in waves of heat that pulsed around me like an aura. Wherever I walk, the temperature rises, leaving sweat-soaked foreheads and flustered faces in my wake.
I don’t knock politely when I visit. I barge in, uninvited, at the most inconvenient moments—like when you’re sitting in a meeting or trying to sleep. My flames dance across your skin, turning your cheeks into a furnace.
“I’m just here to remind you,” I whisper, “that you are a powerhouse of transformation, even if it feels like you’re melting.