I wasn’t paying attention at first, to be honest: to either my perimenopause or the pandemic. I wrote this about the ways they're both fucking me over. And I will write more about perimenopause. We need more words! feministgiant.com/p/essay-fallin…
Transformation is hard.
Learning to sit in the fear and chaos and learning to be friends, or at least to make eye contact, with that fear and chaos is terrifying and awesome; awesome as in 👇🏽
Learning to sit in the fear and chaos and learning to be friends, or at least to make eye contact, with that fear and chaos is terrifying and awesome; awesome as in 👇🏽
Except instead of “the awesome power of the atomic bomb,” it is instead the awesome power of the changing body, evolving from what was into what will become.
Understanding the macrocosm of the pandemic through the microcosm of perimenopause:
Understanding the macrocosm of the pandemic through the microcosm of perimenopause:
not as a way to demonize the natural process of change that is perimenopause, but to honour the lessons it is teaching me. I’m learning to sit with the fear and chaos, submit to the change from which there is no going back, prepare to emerge. We must emerge, not regress.
I refuse to emerge as if unscathed. I insist that we all be scathed, that we refuse to be the people we were at the start of the pandemic. A pandemic, like revolution, does not happen overnight.
We will emerge, our hearts unhealed and scarred but awesome feministgiant.com/p/essay-fallin…
We will emerge, our hearts unhealed and scarred but awesome feministgiant.com/p/essay-fallin…
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
