One Hot Mess

Reena had always prided herself on her impeccable timing. As a professional event planner, she could predict the arrival of the next big event crisis with the precision of a Swiss watch. Unfortunately, her personal life was proving to be a far less predictable affair. Into her mid-forties, Reena found herself facing a new event she had not planned for: perimenopause. It was not on her calendar, and there was no RSVP to manage.

It was a Monday evening in October, and Reena just returned home. She was met with a wave of heat so intense she thought she might spontaneously combust. She dabbed her forehead to wipe out the drops of perspiration forming quickly.

“Of course,” she muttered. “Why wouldn’t my body start behaving like a malfunctioning tandoor?”

Her husband, Chetan, was in the kitchen, his face a mixture of concern and fear. He had learned over the past few months that Reena’s ‘episodes’ were best approached with caution. “Some chai?” he asked, tentatively.

“Chai? I am on fire; I am a living oven!” Reena snapped, though she was too flustered to muster real venom.

Chetan nodded sympathetically and gave a supportive pat. Chetan had been through enough of Reena’s mood swings lately.

In her quest for relief, Reena opened the door of the freezer and took in the draft of cold air that greeted her. She looked at Chetan, who was now making some sherbet for her. She handed him some ice from the freezer.  “Why don’t we go for a walk?” Chetan asked, “fresh air and exercise, or so the wellness blogs promised.”  Always well-meaning but cautious, Chetan was getting a bit concerned with the temper tantrums that Reena was now displaying more frequently.

As Chetan and Reena made their way to the walking track, they encountered two young mothers with babies. Their chatter was a pleasant backdrop until Reena caught a wisp of their conversations: diapers and baby recipes.

It struck Reena that perhaps this was the universe’s way of reminding her of how far she had come. She had survived diaper conversations, parent teacher meetings, recipe shares, and if she could only survive menopause; she could probably handle anything.

A particularly sharp pang of heat made Reena flop down onto a bench, feeling like she had just completed a triathlon. Chetan sat next to her, in silence. He knew better than to say something. Reenu gathered herself in a few minutes, looked at Chetan apologetically. “Never mind me, Reenie. But tell me – is there anything I can do to help?”

“I do not want to be so dramatic but every day feels like a struggle. Maybe I should just visit the doctor again…” Reenu was also getting tired of her emotional roller coaster and wanted a better solution.

As they started to walk again, there was another group of women in their sixties who started their evening walk. They seemed happy and  the very picture of menopause mastery. Maybe she should talk to Mrs Kumar about how she navigated this phase.

Mrs Kumar was the friendly neighbour she bumps into occasionally in the lift, always with the kindly smile and invitation to tea. Reena thought of her mom, her mother-in-law and some of her aunts. She consulted all of them for some advice and drew a blank. They did not seem to remember anything close to what Reena was going through. It made Reena wonder if menopause was a modern ailment. Or may be women just did not talk about it in earlier days.

“Doctor is a good idea. But what do you want to do right now?” Chetan asked.

“Lots of things, Chetan. A cooling system that can help keep pace with my hot flashes.” Reena said her smile returning, trying to look for humour in the situation. “Or hormone replacement. But right now I can settle for a good night’s sleep.”

As they started walking back home, Reena’s phone rang and was thrown into a new crisis. The upcoming wedding she was orchestrating had hit a snag. The bride’s mother, Mrs. Nirmala Rao was a woman of tastes and expectations. She had requested an emergency meeting to discuss the “crucial” details—namely, the design of the wedding mandap.

Reena arrived at the Rao residence and as she stepped into the grand living room, she was greeted by Mrs. Rao, whose gaze was as discerning as her taste in wedding décor.

“Reena ji, welcome,” Mrs. Rao said with an air of authority. “We must finalize the mandap design. I have specific ideas in mind.”

Reena forced a smile, but she could already feel the familiar rush of heat. “Of course, Nirmala ma’am. Let us go over the designs.”

They settled into the plush chairs, and Reena tried to focus on the sketches laid out before her. As Mrs. Rao launched into an intricate monologue about the mandap’s adornments, Reena’s forehead began to glisten with sweat. The room seemed to close in, the temperature rising by the second.

“I simply don’t understand,” Mrs. Rao continued, “why you have suggested these flowers. They are so… ordinary.”

The heat surged. Reena’s vision blurred, and she felt like she was suffocating in a furnace. She attempted to dab at her forehead with a tissue, but it quickly turned into a losing battle. She could feel the sweat soaking through her kurta, and her patience was wearing thin.

“I—um—” Reena stammered, trying to regain her composure. “I believe the flowers will complement the theme beautifully.”

Mrs. Rao eyed Reena with a raised eyebrow. “Are you alright, dear? You seem a bit—”

Before she could finish, Reena’s composure cracked. “I’m sorry, Nirmala ji,” she said, standing abruptly. “I think I’m having a bit of a… personal crisis.”

She rushed out of the room and into the coolness of the garden. She leaned against a tree, gasping for breath. The garden was serene, with lush greenery providing a refreshing contrast to her situation. Reena closed her eyes, trying to will away the burning sensation that had taken over her body.

She had built a successful career as an event planner and maintained a vibrant social life. Her children fared well in their education; she had a loving husband. She had always been the one in control, the woman who could solve any crisis, organize any event, and take care of everyone around her. But now, as her body changed, Reena was beginning to question the role she had spent years perfecting. Who was she becoming?

A few minutes later, Mrs. Rao appeared in the garden, her expression softening. “Reena ji, I didn’t mean to—”

Reena wiped her face and looked at her. “No, it is not you. It is me. Well, it is more my body right now. I am going through… well, let us say a personal phase.”

Mrs. Rao, surprisingly, smiled gently. “Ah, menopause. I understand. I went through that a few years ago. It is quite the ordeal, isn’t it?”

Reena was taken aback by the empathy. “Yes, it is. I have been trying to juggle everything while… melting down.”

Mrs. Rao laughed softly. “It is a challenging phase, but you will get through it. Menopause is a transition, but it is also a time we reassess how we take care of ourself. With the right plan, you can navigate it smoothly. You have handled so many crises in your career—I am sure you can handle this one too.”

“Thank you for understanding” Reena chuckled, her mood lifting slightly

Mrs. Rao continued, “And you know what, I am enjoying the best phase of my life. Remember, this will pass.”

As the two women returned to the living room, Reena felt a sense of relief. The rest of the meeting was spent discussing the mandap with renewed clarity and a bit of humour.

Reena started “You know, Mrs Rao I have been thinking about starting a support group for those navigating the trials of menopausal madness. There are just no conversations on this topic. Would you be the first speaker?”

“A support group? That is a good idea! You can call it the “Hot Mess Anonymous” Mrs Rao laughed. “And maybe we all wear T Shirts with a fire emoji as our logo..” Reena giggled and continued.

At dinner, Reena shared her day with Chetan, recounting her adventure with a newfound sense of perspective.

Chetan listened intently, then pulled her into a hug. “You know, Reena, you are handling this better than anyone could have expected. You are like a fire-walking diva, taking it all in stride.”

She shook her head, touched by his light-hearted response but aware of the quiet support he had been offering her throughout this unpredictable journey. “It is not just the hot flashes, Chetan. Sometimes I feel like I am changing in ways I cannot even explain, like I am not quite myself anymore.”

Chetan’s expression turned serious for a moment as he pulled her closer. “Reena, you are still you. Maybe a different version—one that is evolving—but you are still the woman I love, the one who can juggle a hundred things at once and still find a way to laugh about it all.”

Reena sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “It is hard, though. Not being in control. Not knowing what is coming next. I have spent my life organizing everything, and now I cannot even predict when the next hot flash will hit.”

“I know,” Chetan said quietly. “But you do not have to face it alone. I am here for all of it—the good, the bad, the uncertain.”

In that moment, Reena realized that even though this phase of her life felt chaotic and unfamiliar, she was not navigating it by herself. She had Chetan’s unwavering support, and that made this phase of life a little more bearable. Maybe, just maybe, she could embrace this new version of herself—and help others going through this phase.

*** ***

painting: Copilot/Dall-e generated