#007: Party Season Meets Perimenopause. Navigating the silly season

Navigating the silly season during perimenopause—now that’s a ride I wasn’t quite prepared for. I used to look forward to this time of year. There was always a buzz in the air, an excuse to throw on something sparkly, catch up with old friends, new friends, work friends, and drink a bit more than usual. The holiday season was a marathon of late nights, laughter, endless toasts, and spontaneous dance floors.

But these days, as I find myself deep in perimenopause, the idea of “festive fun” has taken on a whole new meaning. It’s like a game of roulette. Some nights, I’m all in—I want to dress up, feel the energy, and let loose like I used to. Other nights, even the thought of going out makes me want to crawl under a blanket and hide from all the noise, the people, the expectation to perform.

It’s not that I don’t still love a good party; it’s just different now.

The things that used to be simple—staying up past midnight (ok, 10pm), sipping on champagne, keeping up with conversations in loud, crowded rooms—now take a little more effort. I’ve had to rethink my whole strategy. Because let’s face it, perimenopause has a way of throwing you curveballs when you least expect them. One moment you’re fine, and the next, you’re hit with a wave of anxiety, a sudden hot flush, or that all-too-familiar brain fog that makes you forget the name of the person you’ve been chatting with for the past 10 minutes.

And don’t get me started on alcohol. I used to love the festive drinks—the mulled wine, the spiced cocktails, the obligatory “let’s do another round” at every event.

But now, even one glass can leave me feeling off-kilter, amplifying the symptoms that were already lurking in the background. What used to be a relaxing sip has turned into a potential trigger for a restless night of sleep, leaving me wide awake at 3 am, my mind racing and my body buzzing with that strange, jittery feeling that seems to come out of nowhere.

So I’ve had to learn to ride these waves differently. I pick my parties carefully now. I say “yes” to the ones I’m really excited about, and I let myself off the hook for the rest. I plan my evenings like a strategy session: eat before I go, keep a glass of water in my hand, and—most importantly—give myself permission to leave early if I need to. No more pushing through the discomfort just because I feel like I should be having fun. If my body’s telling me it’s time to head home, I listen.

It’s been a lesson in finding new ways to enjoy the season, on my terms. It’s about swapping the boozy nights out for cozy dinners with close friends, where we can actually hear each other talk and laugh without shouting over the music. It’s about sneaking in a nap if I know there’s a big night ahead, and not feeling guilty about needing a bit of extra rest. It’s about bringing my own stash of non-alcoholic drinks to parties, so I can still join in the toasts without paying for it later.

But mostly, it’s about letting go of that old script I used to follow. The one that said you had to be everywhere, do everything, and drink just because everyone else was.

Perimenopause has taught me that my energy is precious, and I have to spend it wisely. That doesn’t mean I’m opting out of the fun; it just means I’m finding new ways to engage, to connect, and to celebrate. Sometimes, it’s still a wild night out, and other times, it’s curling up on the couch watching ‘The Holiday’ and some quiet.

There are still moments when I miss how easy it used to be, when I didn’t have to think twice about what I was eating, drinking, or how late I could stay out. But I’m also learning to appreciate the changes. Because when I do find those moments of joy—whether it’s dancing around my kitchen loudly to Mariah, or having a heartfelt chat over a warm drink—it feels more genuine, more intentional. I’m not just going through the motions; I’m choosing the moments that matter, and letting the rest go.

So, this party season, if you see me ducking out early or skipping the champagne, don’t worry. I’m still having fun, just in a way that fits where I am now. I’m riding these waves as best I can, sometimes catching a perfect one, sometimes tumbling off, but always, always trying to stay true to what feels right for me. Because if there’s one thing perimenopause has taught me, it’s that listening to yourself, really listening, is the best way to keep your head above water. And who knows, maybe I’ll start a new trend—one where partying can be about balance, about finding joy without the crash, and about knowing when it’s time to paddle out and when it’s time to head back to shore.