Here’s an excerpt from Anne Bardsley’s How I Earned My Wrinkles: Musings on Marriage, Motherhood, and Menopause. Take it away, Anne!
I went to my doctor to get my hormone levels tested and found out that my progesterone was very low. I’m convinced that this is the hormone responsible for working out, keeping the house tidy, and creating delicious gourmet meals. I think it may even have some control over sexual desire.
I should’ve known something wasn’t right. I was feeling horizontal lately—as in, I laid down at every opportunity. No gym, no vacuuming, no exotic dinners … no thoughts of wild times under the sheets.
In addition to my progesterone, I was told that my testosterone was also a tad low. My doctor said I needed hormone replacement therapy, but he warned that I may grow hair, my voice may get deeper, and my libido may increase with my new hormone routine. Hairy with a manly voice and amorous tendencies … the combo was sure to be my husband’s worst nightmare!
After thirty-five years of marriage, we’re really pretty good together. We talk about anything and everything. There had never been any secrets. Until those little hormones came about. Did I really want to tell him what could happen to me once the hormones kicked in? Maybe he wouldn’t notice. There was no need to scare the poor man away.
So I quietly began the hormone replacement therapy.
On the first day of hormones, there was no change.
On the second day of hormones, I felt a bit amorous.
On the third day, I noticed more hair in my armpits.
On the fourth day, I looked at myself in the mirror, and I said, “Looking good, Baby!” in a husky voice. This cannot be happening.
On the fifth day of hormones, I felt the need to tug at my netherlands.
On the sixth day, Scott said, “Your voice is getting deeper than mine.”
On the seventh day of hormones, I bought a set of barbells.
On the eighth day, Scott asked, “Is that a mustache on your face?”
On the ninth day, I told Scott he was acting like a girl.
On the tenth day, he asked, “Were you staring at me in the shower this morning?”
On the eleventh day, Scott woke up with a sunburn. Apparently, I had a hot flash that night.
On the twelfth day, we were at a nice restaurant and I asked, “Want to arm wrestle?”
I knew my testosterone was in high gear when I asked, “Can you teach me to field strip an M-16 and put it back together blindfolded? I really want to go to the shooting range.”
His response was short and sweet. “I want that doctor’s number and I want it now!”
Here’s to hormones and husbands!
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Anne Bardsley is a humor writer, blogger, and author of How I Earned My Wrinkles: Musings on Marriage, Motherhood, and Menopause.
Over the years, her work has appeared in several publications. More would be available if she was not so busy pondering ways to firm her thighs. This uses a huge amount of her already limited brain cells. She barely survived raising five kids. They were all worth the labor pains in the long run and have given her wonderful grandchildren. Anne currently lives in St. Petersburg, Florida with her husband of thirty-five years and two spoiled cockapoos