Nobody Warned Me I’d Become a Detective

If you had told me 20 years ago that one day I’d spend half my life trying to remember why I walked into a room, I would’ve laughed. Now? I walk into the kitchen, stop dead in my tracks, and just stand there looking around.

What did I come in here for? A snack? My phone? The laundry? My husband?

Who knows.

Sometimes I just grab a bottle of water so it looks like I came in there on purpose. Menopause has turned me into a full-time detective. Every day I’m solving mysteries that I created.

The questions I find myself asking

Where are my glasses? …On my head.

Where’s my phone? …I’m talking on it.

Where are my keys? …In the refrigerator.

Don’t judge me. It was a rough day.

Then there are the conversations. I’ll start telling a story with so much confidence. “So yesterday I was talking to…to…to…” Now everybody’s waiting. I’m waiting. The person’s name is somewhere in my brain playing hide-and-seek.

Five minutes later—usually after the conversation has completely changed—it pops back into my head. “CAROL! It was Carol!” Nobody cares anymore, but I feel accomplished.

I'm trying to find the humor in it

I’ve learned not to fight it. I laugh at myself because, honestly, what else can you do? One thing menopause has taught me is to give myself a little more grace. For years I expected myself to remember everything, do everything, take care of everybody, run a business, work another job, create content, keep up with family, and somehow still have a perfectly organized brain.

That’s a lot for anybody.

So now, when I forget something, I don’t automatically assume something is wrong with me. I take a breath, write myself a note, set a reminder in my phone, and keep moving.

I’ve become best friends with sticky notes. If they disappear…well…that’s another mystery.

The truth is, memory changes during menopause are something many women experience. It doesn’t mean we’re losing who we are. It simply means our brains are adjusting during a major life transition.

Every day is different

Some days are sharper than others. Some days I can remember every lyric to a song from 1987 but can’t remember why I opened the pantry. Make it make sense.

I’ve learned to laugh instead of panic. Because if we can’t laugh at ourselves every now and then, menopause will have entirely too much fun at our expense. So if you see me standing in the middle of a room looking confused, don’t ask me what I’m doing.

I don’t know either.

But if you happen to find my keys while you’re there…let me know.