How is menopause like a movie, or a book, or a well-executed TikTok or even an epic poem?

I’ll tell you. 

Like many people, I’ve struggled with a see-saw of anxiety and depression for a lot of my life. I always worry that when I die my family will find my journals and be astonished to find out what a Dark Debbie I can be. 

I was quite a binge drinker back in the day, meaning the fun I had on the weekend left me bereft at my desk on Monday and Tuesday. I never connected the alcohol I consumed to numb myself in the name of fun with my deep sorrow days later. I could never find that one big relationship I thought would save me from myself, had no kids, and the shame and sadness I internalized and felt over that, for years, made the impact of any childhood baggage worse.

And even though all this was wrapped up in a life filled with a ton of fun, adventure, absurdity, love and hope, by the time I was in my late 30s and had moved overseas, my moods had become a considerable issue. By my early 40s, I was in a state that was impossible to ignore. A bad breakup and family illness sparked horribly intrusive thoughts and panic attacks. 

It was only when I could barely function – and all my eyelashes fell out, twice – that I realized my body was screaming at me to pay attention. A naturopath I sought help from told me sternly that if I didn’t change my ways, which included exercising manically, working constantly, drinking to keep anxiety at bay, stuffing down my emotions, joy nowhere to be found, I’d get an autoimmune disease or cancer. 

And so I reached out to an online therapist, and began the very long and arduous process of changing almost everything. I worked with that therapist for four years, reluctantly, in fits and starts, with many canceled sessions, and a large gap in the middle. But over time, we unearthed my issues and I began working through them.

I also embarked on what has turned out to be a long, slow and fruitful master’s degree in myself. That includes more than a dozen self-directed courses, learning from some of the most impactful leaders in this work on social media, online, YouTube and later, via the blessed medium of podcasts. 

I came to realize that my thoughts are not facts. They are not even true that often. I’ve learned to sit through the discomfort of fear, uncertainty and worry for others, slowly bearing it until it lessens and passes. Slowly, so slowly, I’ve found that wise essence inside of me who is connected to everyone else, and everything else; who notices, and who knows.

And although I still love a good cocktail, a few years ago I took a long, hard look at the way I used alcohol. Cutting down drastically and moving to mostly mindful, measured drinking was a game-changer. The people in this field, the ones who have helped me learn to heal, to be me, like to say that this work never ends. The complicating factor in all of this is that by mid-life, when all our unresolved “stuff” is pressing down, many of us are overloaded with the external stress of aging parents, raising teens and relationships that aren’t maybe what they might once have been.

All that and the roller coaster of second puberty perimenopause? I think that is why so many of us go careening to the edge.

What I know for sure is that a huge part of this peri-to-post menopause transition has to do with our very spirit and soul. It is truly a hero’s journey, not unlike the one at the heart of every story you’ll ever read or watch. Broken down very simply, there is the call – the one no hero ever wants to answer, whether it’s Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon or, you know, you – the initiation and all the challenges (and helpers you’ll meet) along the way, and the return. 

And like most of the heroes we see in movies, through the journey of menopause we come home to those we love, but also, gloriously, to ourselves.

Answering this call is like stepping on a hard path to personal truth. 

And I promise you this: it will also set you free.