Climbing the Estrogen Cliff

So this month I turn 43 and for my birthday, I get to climb back up the estrogen cliff. I know, you’re thinking, you’re 43 sweetheart, you’re supposed to fall off the estrogen cliff. That’s how it works. For time immemorial around this age, women fall off a precipice into the unknown.

Though, it’s not really unknown, because so many women before us have gone through it. But, we pretend it’s unknown and let every woman figure out this experience on their own. We call that sisterhood. Like real sisterhood, in the way that if you have an older sister she would let you fall down and laugh. (But then does give you a hand to get back up.)

Anyway… so the cliff. Because I can’t seem to ever follow a normal path, I find myself at the foot of the estrogen cliff, preparing to climb back up it. What does that even mean? Where is this cliff? Why are women falling off it? Are we all just lemmings dutifully following the leader in a single line, ignoring that the bridge hasn’t been built yet? Anyone else remember the game Lemmings? So good! I miss the 90s.

The estrogen cliff is a metaphor for menopause of course- not one I made up, one I stole from someone much more thoughtful than me. It represents the fall in estrogen you’d see, if you were charting your estrogen, as you age. Where men get a nice steady downward slope (one even the worst skateboarder could coast down), women get a steep drop. 

This should not be surprising to anyone with lived female experience.

And, because part of the human condition is to only value something when it is gone, we learn afterwards how great estrogen really is. We learn (due to its absence) that estrogen keeps our skin nice. It helps our joints move freely and keeps our bones strong. It helps with regulating body temperature. It lets us sleep at night. It helps our memory and prevents brain fog. And, according to science it helps stabilize our moods. However, I wonder if that last one is still open to social debate.

5 years ago, I started medication to chemically suppress my estrogen for cancer prevention. So, over a very short period of time I was basically catapulted from ‘normal’ 37-year-old bag of hormones to a chemically induced ‘imposter’ 80-year-old bag of hormones. And, now for my birthday, I get to go back to being a ‘normal’(?) 43-year-old bag of hormones. Well maybe, it’s like a 50/50 shot. It’s also possible my body may just say ‘F-it’ we’ve gotten used to this new way and don’t feel like making the climb. We don’t really know. I’ll get back to you in a month or two when I know more.

Some people might say ‘You’ll feel like your old self again!” But will I? Who is my old self? Is she still in there? Isn’t the whole point of resilience and adapting that you grow as a person? You change? What’s the baseline for feels? Will I feel like my old self when I was in my mid-30s and fatigued from undiagnosed cancer? Or, will it be like my early-30s when I gave birth to two daughters and had a miscarriage? I’m not sure those are exactly ‘normal’ baselines either. Will I be young and stupid again like in my 20s? That was fun. I’d do that again.

Here’s what I’m hoping for. I hope my joints won’t hurt when I get up and my range of motion will come back. I hope I sleep better at night. I hope I can make it on a road trip without opening and closing the window every 30 seconds due to hot flashes. (My husband and kids hope for that last one too.)

But here’s the rub. If I go back (remember 50/50 shot), in a few short years, I’ll have to fall off the cliff again. And man, did I get some bumps and bruises along the way the first time. Seriously, if you know me well, you’ll know I’ve had a massive keyhole shaped scab on my knee from falling for easily 2 months… It was a thing; I am very stubborn. We’ll leave it at that.

So, my question to you. If given the chance to go back- to turn back the proverbial clock- would you do it?