Men, Oh - Pause. (Seriously, Just... Pause)

There’s a moment, a flicker, really, where a well-meaning man opens his mouth to say something like, “Is it just me, or are those pants a bit snug?” Or maybe he dares to adjust the thermostat by a single degree and mutters, “Feels chilly in here.”

Gentlemen, I beg you: pause.

No, really—Men. Oh, pause.

Because you’re about to step into the steamy, sweaty, rage-filled minefield that is menopause.

Men, oh—pause before you ask if she's hot.

She knows she’s hot. She’s molten. She’s one minor inconvenience away from ripping off her bra in the freezer aisle of Costco.

Men, oh—pause before you say, “You should really try yoga.”

She did yoga. She almost strangled a woman with her resistance band.

Men, oh—pause—before you say, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

She was wearing something else. Then she changed. Then she changed again. Then she threatened to move into a yurt.

Men, oh—pause—before you make a joke about memory loss.

She remembers exactly where she hid the remote, and if you keep talking, she’ll remember where she left the shovel, too.

Men, oh—pause—before you mention how peaceful your sleep has been lately.

Because she’s been lying awake at 2 a.m., staring at the ceiling fan like it’s a lifeline and mentally undressing a pint of Häagen-Dazs.

Men, oh—pause—before you suggest maybe she’s being “a little emotional.”

You’re right. And also, maybe you should be a little nervous.

Men, oh—pause before you say, “Why don’t you just open a window?”

Because if one more person suggests a breeze as a cure, she’s going to install a wind tunnel and aim it directly at your side of the bed.

Men, oh—pause before you say, “You’re not really mad at me.”

No, but you’re standing in the blast radius of whatever hormone just hijacked her soul, and that’s close enough.

We don’t talk enough about this magical, mystical time of life when your ovaries go into early retirement and take your patience, sleep, and body temperature regulation with them. It’s not all bad, of course, freedom from periods! A growing intolerance for nonsense! The right to say, “Nope, not today,” and mean it with your whole being.

But it is a time when the men in our lives might want to read the room. Or at least pause before they find themselves on the wrong end of a frozen bag of peas.

So, to the men who love us: bring snacks. Don't comment on the waistband. And for the love of all things holy, stop touching the damn thermostat.

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