Men + Menopause
Navigating Peri with My Supportive Husband (and His Loud Chewing)
I was supposed to be interviewed last week by an award-winning journalist about the male perspective on menopause. Pat was going to join me. We’d both carved out the time to share our story — because, as you know, it’s not just our journey. It’s theirs too.
But juggling an international flight for our teenage son’s first solo trip ever, my on and off headaches from having to ration my MHT/HRT supplies which are dwindling, and squeezing in multiple doctor follow-ups here in Bali (oh yes, this trip has turned into a bit of a saga), it all just got too stressful to line up. And isn’t that the most perimenopausal thing ever? Good intentions, beautiful chaos, and a whole lot of pivoting.
Still, I’ve been wanting to share my husband’s perspective for a while now. Because despite my highly tuned ability to lose it over the sound of him chewing, I am so deeply grateful to have a partner who’s willing to lean in. To try and understand what the eff is going on with me.
Because it’s not just happening to me — it’s happening to all of us. Him included.
Has it always been this way? Nope. But that’s not his fault. Honestly, I had no idea what I was experiencing either, so how could I even begin to communicate my needs coherently?
Perimenopause crept up on me like a passive-aggressive houseguest, and somewhere along the line, sounds became an issue. I’ve always been sensitive, but now? His yoghurt sounds crunchy. Apples might as well be jackhammers. And don't get me started on corn chips.
It’s not just me. At the So Hot Right Now event at the Sydney Opera House, Dr Louise Newson made a quip about the rage-inducing sound of a partner chewing. Shelly Horton confessed she’s had to stop herself from accidentally yelling at her partner over it. So yeah. It’s a thing.
I did a sensory sensitivity assessment with my therapist last year and, unsurprisingly, scored high. So maybe it’s my neurodivergence. Maybe it’s peri. Probably both.
Funnily enough, my family of origin have mentioned they remember me going semi-homicidal at the sound of chewing in my ear since forever. My younger siblings used to weaponise it. So chances are it’s always been there — but peri has turned the volume up to 11.
Through it all, Pat has been a bit of a legend. He listens. He empathises, even when he doesn’t get it. He’s open to hearing how I’m feeling, even when I can’t quite make sense of it myself. Today, after I’d said how supported I felt, he asked quizzically:
“How have I been supportive?”
And I said, “Well… you haven’t divorced me yet.”
We laughed. But it’s true.
He once said, “There are things that happen to men, but they’re minor compared to what women go through. Maybe the biggest thing is you just get grumpier.” (Thanks, babe.) He also said there’s no way he could manage everything we go through — menopause, childbirth, societal expectations — “I’d have to self-medicate,” he said. “I’d be a mess otherwise.”
Now that is validation. And a sign he actually gets it.
And it’s not just him. The conversations are landing, ladies. Remember that chat I had at the pub with a group of random men? They were surprisingly open, curious, willing to listen and contribute.
Real Talk at the Pub: When Perimenopause Unexpectedly Became The Topic With The Blokes
Yesterday, I found myself in the best kind of random chat at the pub with three guys I’d never met before. Completely unplanned and totally enrichening.
My son’s gym trainer? Same thing. He’s been really empathetic, sharing what his wife and clients are navigating, and offering support. Then there’s this clip from Mitchell Little — men are showing up. They’re asking questions. They’re eager to support the women they love.
Back to Pat and me. Our conversations aren’t always easy. There’s been conflict, confusion, and moments of raw honesty. But having a shared language around this messy, hormonal, life-redefining chapter? That helps. A lot. We’re not perfect, but we’re figuring it out together.
And interestingly, being so open about menopause has helped us support our daughter through puberty, too. There’s no “shh” or sweeping things under the rug. Just honesty, humour, and a bit of hormonal solidarity. When she lets us talk about it, anyway, but that’s a whole other post, and one I definitely don’t have down pat yet. Got advice?
So while the chewing still makes me homicidal on occasion, I wouldn’t trade him for the world.