Marriage, Menopause & the Man I Married

Nobody warned me that one day I could look at my husband and think, “I love you more than anything, but if you touch me right now, I might lose commit a felony!”

Welcome to menopause.

There are some things nobody really prepares you for when you get older. Your body changes. Your hormones change. Your sleep changes. Your emotions can change. Your sex drive can change. Your confidence can change. You can wake up at two in the morning absolutely drenched in sweat and then find yourself crying over a dog commercial twenty minutes later. And somehow, in the middle of all of that, you're still supposed to be a wife, and he's still supposed to be a husband.

That's where marriage gets real. Because marriage isn't just about loving each other when we're young, energetic, rested, attracted, and feeling good. Marriage is about learning how to love the person sitting across from you through every version of them. And menopause? Well, menopause is definitely a version.

There are days when I don't recognize myself. Maybe you've been there too. You look in the mirror and wonder when your body became someone else's. Your clothes fit differently. You don't sleep well. You don't have the same energy. You don't always feel sexy. You can be completely fine one minute and irrationally irritated the next. And then your husband walks into the room and says something completely innocent, and suddenly you're thinking, “Oh, so THIS is how we're doing today?” Poor man. He didn't even know he was in danger.

But here's something I've had to learn: my hormones may explain what I'm experiencing, but they don't give me permission to treat my husband however I want. That's a hard one because sometimes it's easier to blame everything on hormones than to take ownership of how we're communicating. I'm allowed to say, “I'm struggling.” I'm allowed to say, “I don't feel like myself.” I'm allowed to need more patience, more sleep, more affection, more understanding, and sometimes just five minutes alone in a room where nobody needs anything from me. But I still have a responsibility to love my husband well.

And husbands, you have a responsibility too. Your wife may not look at you the same way she did at 25. She may not have the same energy. She may not have the same sexual desire. She may not even fully understand what is happening to her body. That doesn't mean she doesn't love you. Don't take every change personally. She may need you to listen instead of fix. She may need tenderness instead of pressure. She may need you to hold her without expecting it to lead somewhere. She may need you to remind her that she's still beautiful when she doesn't feel beautiful. And sometimes she may need you to understand that the woman you married is still in there. She's just trying to figure out where she went.

And wives, your husband isn't the enemy either. He may not understand menopause. He may say the wrong thing. He may genuinely have no idea why you're crying. He may wonder why the woman who used to jump his bones now wants to sleep alone with a fan blowing directly on her face. Give him some grace. Talk to him. Don't make him guess. Don't punish him with silence. Don't use sex as a weapon. Don't make him pay for something he didn't do. And please don't assume he doesn't find you attractive just because you don't feel attractive. Your feelings are real, but your feelings don't always tell you the whole truth.

And then there's sex. Yep. We're going there because we're married people, and pretending this isn't part of the conversation doesn't help anybody. Menopause can change this part of marriage too. Sometimes your body simply doesn't cooperate. Sometimes desire disappears. Sometimes intimacy becomes uncomfortable. Sometimes you're exhausted before the kids, work, ministry, life, and everything else are even finished. And sometimes your husband is sitting there wondering, “Did I do something?” Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. But this is where communication matters.

Marriage requires us to be honest enough to say, “This is what I'm experiencing,” instead of, “You don't understand me,” or “You only care about sex,” or “Just leave me alone.” And husbands need to be able to say, “Help me understand what you're experiencing,” instead of, “What's wrong with you?” or “You never want me anymore.” Because here's the truth: she has changed. And so have you. That's called getting older.

The goal isn't to pretend we're still 25. The goal is to learn how to love each other at 52, at 62, at 72, and at every age God gives us together. Maybe this season isn't about losing something. Maybe it's about learning something. Learning patience. Learning communication. Learning tenderness. Learning to laugh again. Learning that intimacy isn't always sexual. Learning that affection matters. Learning that sometimes the most romantic thing a husband can do is make his wife's coffee and shut the bedroom door so she can sleep. And sometimes the most romantic thing a wife can do is look at her husband and say, “I'm struggling right now, but I'm still choosing you.”

Because that's marriage. It's not perfection. It's not constant butterflies. It's not getting everything right. It's covenant. It's choosing. It's growing. It's giving each other room to become the people God is still shaping us to be.

Menopause may have changed my body. It may have changed my emotions. It may have changed parts of our marriage. But it doesn't get to change our commitment to one another. After all these years, I still want the same man beside me. Even if sometimes I need him to sleep six inches farther away because I AM HOT.

And if you're in this season too, let me remind you of something. You're not broken. Your marriage isn't doomed. Your husband isn't necessarily the problem. Your wife isn't necessarily rejecting you. You're both learning how to love each other in a new season.

So talk. Laugh. Give grace. Take ownership. Get help when you need it. Pray together. Be honest about what's changing. And keep choosing each other.

Because the goal isn't to go backward.

The goal is to grow forward—together.