Deeply Felt: Whatever Happened to Fun?
perimenopause is ruining the vibes + a sort of announcement
Last December, as I was preparing for my mostly annual NYC visit to celebrate Chrismanukkah (yes, I know most people call it Chrismukkah) and my 45th birthday with my beloved group of college friends, I was emphasizing to them that I didn’t particularly care what we did to ring in my birthday, as long as it was FUN. I was in desperate need of fun. So much so that I brought out one of the most shocking and memorable moments in Sex and the City history to really hit the point home.
In season 6, episode 18—a mere three episodes away from the series finale—Carrie and her lover, nay LOVAH, Alexsander Petrovsky attend a party thrown by her Vogue editor. At this soiree, which is mostly boring AF, we meet aging party girl Lexi Featherstone (played perfectly by Kristen Johnston) complain, while coke’d up and smoking out of a high rise window, that New York, and everyone in it, had ceased being fun.
“Whatever happened to FUN?” she yells while spewing insults at the “fucking geriatrics” gawking at her. “I’m so bored I could die,” she bemoans. And then…just like that, Lexi loses her balance and falls to her death. Sorry if this is a spoiler, but you’ve had 21 years to watch it. I don’t know if this technically qualifies as defenestration (a truly fun-sounding word for something so terrible), but I know that just about every woman I encounter these days is asking herself the same question.
Truly, what did ever happen to fun?
In a word, for myself and many of my friends, perimenopause.
After surviving puberty, pregnancies, and postpartum challenges, perimenopause has rapidly taken over the top spot for most challenge P-phases of my life. It is the opposite of fun. Unexplained weight gain happening faster than I can say, “Who wants to sell me black market Ozempic?” Mood swings that leave me depleted and depressed, or conversely, rage-filled but not entirely sure why. Skin changes, hair changes, period changes, suddenly unable to lift my arm higher than my shoulder changes. All of these things (and more!) have been attributed to perimenopause, and yet, there seems to be no standard of care for how to help women through this deeply felt cluster fuck of hormonal hell. IT IS NOT FUN.
Thankfully, I have a Nurse Practitioner who is compassionate, knowledgeable and willing to prescribe medications instead of telling me to simply buy a weighted vest and try to get more fresh air. Which, I’m also doing—along with seemingly every other middle-aged woman in my neighborhood. It’s like an army of weighted-vest-wearing, dog-walking, irritable-but-trying people all trying to save what pieces of ourselves we can.
Since starting medications a few weeks ago (feel free to reach out if you want to know what I’m trying), I am doing a bit better. I feel more like myself and less like a person who could end up on “Snapped.” But I’m still not having very much fun.
Which is why, to save myself from a fate as cruel as Lexi’s, I’ve decided to prioritize FUN this summer. And yes, I do have to put it in all caps because the level of enjoyment I need to reach cannot be a whisper. It can’t be like, “Why don’t we swing by TCBY on our way home from running errands? That’ll be fun.” vibes. The fun must be exuberant.
There will be challenges, of course. Namely, the heat. Austin in the summer is a deeply felt hellscape of 100+ degree days that have only become more intense with each of the five summers we’ve lived here; I am not built for this. “It’s too hot to go to the pool,” is a thing I frequently say to my children. This summer I will try to say that less, because pools are fun.
However.
Our neighborhood pools are just so boring. Lexi would gag. There are lifeguards every few feet regulating everything the children do, which, sure, that’s the “safe way” to go about it, but it leaves very little room for canon balls, belly flops, or bloody noses due to chicken fight games gone wrong.
It’s a privilege, I know, to live in a neighborhood that has these amenities, but it just doesn’t tickle my fancy. Instead, I may drive the 20 minutes, and schlep all the things to Barton Springs Pool, an iconic three-acre swimming pool fed by underground springs in Zilker Park that is a cold-ass 68 degrees year-round, welcomes every type of Austinite under the sun (including topless sunbathers), and has a diving board my HOA would gasp at that went viral last year.
Now that looks fun. Throw in some poppers and I think Lexi might even approve.
Aside from that and listening to Reneé Rapp’s new banger on repeat, I have one other incredibly fun thing happening with my youngest son that I’ll tell you about later. But friends, summer is long, so I am all ears for any and all ideas for fun I can have with two boys who would be perfectly content to have me drive them around Texas while they played Pokemon Go for 10 weeks. Which, I can assure you, shan’t be happening. So tell me how you have fun. And don’t be lame about it.
I promise to report back with updates.
And, as for that trip back in December? It was FUN! In addition to my NYU Girls, I saw dear friends who filled my bucket with connection and conversation. I walked the city, soaking up the holiday markets, all the twinkly lights, and even a couple of light snowfalls.
And then, I danced.
For my birthday, we ended up going to a Matinee Social Club dance party that I simply cannot recommend highly enough for those of you who love to throw ass, but also love to get that ass to bed. We danced and sang for five straight hours—it just so happened those hours were 5 - 10pm. Complimentary pizza was also served at 8pm. I turned 45 with some of my favorite humans who know how to bring out this level of joy in me simply by being around, and buying me vodka sodas.
What’s so wild to me when I look at this photo is how recent it actually was. And yet, in the five months since it was taken, I feel as if I’ve lost that spark. I thought I was struggling with perimenopause before the trip, but that was just a teaser for what was to come. It’s like when Buddy the Elf is told Santa Claus is coming to the department store (“I know him!”) but then realizes he’s a fake (“You sit on a throne of lies!”) I know when I look in the mirror it’s me, but in so many deeply felt ways, I do not recognize myself right now.
In prioritizing pleasure/fun/joy/whatever you want to call it, I’m trying to get a version of my younger self back while still recognizing that aging is inevitable, and where I’m at in perimenopause is only the beginning of what could be a decade-long process. Lord help me. It’s hard to imagine feeling worse than I did the past few months, but that’s why I’m doing what I can to get ahead of it now. I’ve simply got too much left to do in life to be taken down by a bunch of erratic ass hormones and something called “visceral fat." Don’t we all?
Lexi was a tragic case, likely destined for an untimely demise whether she stood near that window or not. She was stuck in a time and place that no longer existed, surrounded by people who moved on when she could not. I was, and still am, excited to get older and evolve. I’m not naive enough to think that aging, perimenopause, and ultimately menopause, isn’t going to change me in numerous ways, no matter how many things I try in order to mitigate it. I’m just hoping that for me, and all the women who feel the same way I do, we can find a softer landing. And a whole lot of fun.
A Few Things I’m Feeling This Week:
I feel like shaking things up with Deeply Felt. July 25th will mark one year since I launched this Substack, and it’s been one of the best creative decisions I’ve ever made. I love coming to this space to share pieces of myself, or lessons I think we can learn about the human experience, even when they’re quite painful to express. So many of you have shared what various posts have meant to you, or that you read a book, listened to a song, watched a film, etc. because I mentioned it here. It thrills me and touches my heart every time.
But I want to explore how I can expand/elevate/refine Deeply Felt in its second year so that we all want to keep coming back. There are so many Substack writers on here now, like so many, and I want to take a bit of time to explore how I can better use this space to do something that’s fresh and true to me, but also might cast a wider net in reaching readers. So stay tuned for more on that, and please do let me know what you like about Deeply Felt, what hasn’t resonated for you, and what you’d love to read more of. It’s so helpful to get feedback!
My husband and I have been doing a re-watch of Girls as of late and I know people have very strong opinions about Lena Dunham but my god what a talent. Dunham was just 23 (YEARS OLD) when she sold the project to HBO. She then went on to write, direct, and star in six seasons. This is a remarkable feat in our industry. I loved this piece she recently wrote for The New Yorker about growing up in, and eventually breaking up with, New York City. As someone with a decades-long on-again, off-again romance with that city, I deeply felt much of her analysis.
Speaking of HBO, I recently saw an interview clip where Sarah Jessica Parker was talking about the book, The Best of Everything, by Rona Jaffe and how she regrets Sex and the City did not include it as part of the show. I’m embarrassed to admit I hadn’t heard of the beloved 1958 novel centered on a group of young women working at a NYC publishing house in the 1950s. I’m reading it now and I can definitely see why SJP said that. It’s a great summer read if you want to dig into a classic.
Okay friends, I’m off to find the FUN. I hope you’ll do the same.
I wanna go to that pool with you and the boys this summer. I wanna know both your Peri meds! And yes to FUNNNNN.