Growing up, my mother taught us, “if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” This is a wonderfully pleasant world to live in, where women are only allowed to pay compliments and be sweet. It’s not that she meant to quiet our intellect, but filter it – so we could be well-liked and good leaders. That worked for me, for the first 12-15 years of my career. I think I’d learned to fake it pretty well, most of the time.

But now that I am about to be fifty and likely perimenopausal, and at the same time suffering, (I mean really suffering) from Heavy Menstrual Bleeding, I find this skill of being quiet with my displeasure — something I’d been pretty good at my whole life, is now (at certain times each month) truly beyond my reach.

Watch out if I get a bee in my bonnet while you’re on the other end of my customer service call. Or if you happen to be driving during one of my more recent road rage incidents. I am a danger to myself for sure, and others – but only if you get in my way. Most fools can see I’m steaming and step aside.

And now that there are Beckys and Karens coming unglued on cell phone cameras all across this nation, I am hunkering down even tighter. This isn’t sustainable for anyone.

When I share my rage with my boyfriend, thankfully he can empathize in a healthy way. (specifically around politics, rip-off artists and big money schemes where those at the top are clinging to their fortunes, which were built on our backs. – sorry – total tangent- see my WorkplaceWoes blog for more!) My shrink doesn’t seem to notice how great or intense these mood swings are – and if I bring them up with any specificity, her suggestion is usually “something to take the edge off.” Yea, I’ve got that in my weed, thank you very much. Again, not very sustainable for long.

I’ve learned that expressing my needs, or my displeasure, long before it comes an “emergency” is the way to better health. How I express and when I express is a learned skill, as opposed to a pattern imprinted on me. I am not a baby duckling who just does exactly what her mother does. I’m learning to articulate my needs, and express my displeasure in a way that is non-judgemental and non-accusatory. But it certainly doesn’t come naturally. And, like everything I want to be good at, it takes practice.