Nothing makes one feel older than they really are than when the government sends you random emails and letters telling you that you are hitting a milestone in your life. That’s right, the national health care in France sends you reminders that you need to take care of yourself: “Go get a pap smear!”, “Get your teeth cleaned,” “Go for a walk,” etc.
However, the other day I got a letter in the mail that said, “Perimenopause is closer than you think.” It was like Big Brother from the novel “1984” telling me that the clock is ticking! Shortly after that, I received a notice on the application where you choose a doctor from, reminding me that hormones play a key part in perimenopause.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Instagram seems to be in bed with the French government. I’ve seen a number of women do silly things on their reels, talking about hot flashes, mood swings, and the amazing weight gain.
Why does almost every milestone in life have to include weight gain?
This barrage of reminders—from the government and social media—got me thinking. While I might feel too young for it, the messages made me wonder, especially when I saw a husband talk about how to survive a perimenopausal wife. His #1 bit of advice was to not breathe the wrong way while in the same room as his wife. That one made me laugh.
In the midst of my thinking, I went down the Google rabbit hole and discovered some pleasant and not-so-pleasant things to look forward to. As lucky as I was with puberty, and incredibly debilitating menstrual cramps until I had my second son, I am sure that peri menopause is going to be the bee’s knees.
So, since I can’t outrun the inevitable, I’ve decided to stop panicking and start focusing on intentional preparation. If this new phase of life is going to demand energy and grace, I’m going to lean into the slow living philosophy to meet it head-on.
The beauty about perimenopause is that it lasts two to four years, as though it’s some kind of reward—I mean, punishment. This reminds me, as a little girl, I was told by a friend’s mother that periods, cramps, childbirth… all of it was because of Eve, the OG sinner. Which, of course, made me angry that I was being punished for someone else’s choice.
If that wasn’t enough, I have to endure 2–4 years of hot flashes? No, thank you!
There are a few happy thoughts, though, such as some women don’t even realize they are going through perimenopause. And of course, others feel like they are burning from the inside. For the love of all that is holy, please don’t let that be me.
Periods will become irregular, alternating between short and long cycles, which doesn’t bode well for me since I’ve always run like a well-tuned clock.
But I’m sure that my symptoms, when they do happen, will not be the ideal unnoticeable set, since I’m currently feeling the night sweats a few days before my period starts. Lovely.
My Intentional Preparation: Solutions à la Française
As an anxious and overthinking person, I realized there were a couple of ways I could approach this: I could expect the terrible things awaiting me, or I could look for solutions that could aid me in the march towards the change. I chose the latter, and it starts with small, daily rituals.
1. Slow Living and Intentional Movement
I am creating a new morning routine that involves yoga or some kind of gentle stretching. This sets a calm tone for the day. Then, I continue with my weightlifting, which is excellent for bones and muscles—especially as we age—and the best reason of all: it keeps me looking good! This balance of gentle movement and strength training feels like a practical, sustainable French approach, prioritizing longevity over exhaustion.
2. Nourishment Over Restriction
Reducing my sugar intake and eating more veggies is key. And possibly more yogurt. This is thankfully easy to adapt to here in France; I can’t tell you how many fridges are designated for yogurt at the supermarkets! Let’s just say it’s more than the entire aisle for canned foods in the States. Growing up European, I struggled with food, but now in France, I struggle less. It seems there are endless options for fresh produce and fruits. The candy aisles are smaller, and as I said, the canned food section is literally one aisle, and not even the entire aisle, just one side. I’ve learned that less is much more.
3. Less is More: Goodbye, Useless Supplements
Moving to France has opened my eyes to all the useless things I used to put into my body. Most of my old supplement routine was simply a waste of money. I used to order special vitamins that had a natural casing and were tailored to my needs, which, by the way, were few. The vitamins added in the capsule were not always needed, and so they came out in waste. Which was just that—waste.
4. Natural Aids & Pharmacist Guidance
I had decided against contraceptives a long time ago, and now that I understand they could help alleviate symptoms, I am not sure how I feel about that. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t supplements available here. In fact, they can be found at the pharmacy, where the pharmacist assists with selecting the right one before you buy. This brings me comfort, knowing I have professional guidance before putting anything new into my system.
Lâcher Prise: The Ultimate French Lesson
Ultimately, this journey into perimenopause isn’t about dreading the clock; it’s about refining my clock. Moving to France didn’t just change my address; it changed my relationship with my body and with consumerism. The French approach—trusting in fresh food, relying on professional advice at the pharmacy, and prioritizing slow, intentional movement—offers a refreshing antidote to the panic that Big Brother and Instagram tried to induce.
It’s an invitation to embrace the change with grace, not fear. I am learning the ultimate French lesson: lâcher prise (to let go). Letting go of the impossible standards, letting go of the useless supplements, and simply trusting that by taking quiet, sensible steps, this next chapter can be just as beautiful, albeit perhaps a little warmer. Here’s to a slower, simpler, and slightly sweaty journey.
Until Next Time
Christina
