A few months before my 39th birthday, I made a decision. I was going to stop sitting on the fence.
For over a decade, the question of motherhood had caused me a lot of emotional turmoil. I wanted to want to be a mom, but something inside me wasn’t a full yes. I had fears and resistances I couldn’t fully explain.
So in a final attempt to make this decision, I enrolled in a course called The Motherhood Clarity Course, led by a therapist who had guided women through this decision for decades. I showed up. I did the journaling prompts and participated in the discussions. I began uncovering the layers of my resistance and learning about my childhood experiences that were making this decision so complicated for me.
But something else was happening underneath all of it that I didn’t have a name for yet.
I started experiencing a flood of strange symptoms:
brain fog so thick I would lose words mid-sentence, walk into rooms and forget why I was there, and sit at my desk staring at nothing.
Anxiety took over my mind and body.
I was snapping at my husband over things that used to roll right off my shoulders.
I was hypersensitive to everything my friends would say or do.
I missed a meeting with the same client three times in a row (Thankfully she gave me grace!).
Then I sunk into the darkest depression of my life.
I felt like I was losing my mind, like the person I had always known myself to be had disappeared, and I didn’t know who was left.
At the same time, my cycle, which had always been regular, was changing. I went to see my doctor and got my bloodwork reviewed. She looked at me and said: “You’re not having kids. You’re in perimenopause, and your FSH levels are postmenopausal.”
I was 39 years old.
In my mind, all I knew about menopause was that it was a far off date when my period would stop coming. That’s about it.
But perimenopause? And all these symptoms that were derailing my life? I had no clue this was coming until it hit me in the face.
In an instant, I went from agonizing over the decision: “do I become a mom or not?“ to having that decision made for me.
Now you might be wondering why this even mattered if I wasn’t sure I wanted to become a mom in the first place. There is SO MUCH to unpack around this, which I’ll share in future posts, but in short, this is why: for over a decade, I had poured everything into my business. I had meshed my entire sense of identity, purpose, and meaning with it. But my business was burning me out.
And when I was told I couldn’t have kids at the same time that my business became unsustainable, I was left without the two paths I had been navigating between. Without the identity I had constructed. Without anywhere to land.
Who was I if I wasn’t a business owner? Who was I if I couldn’t become a mom? What was left?”
The rug of meaning, purpose, self-worth, and value had been pulled out from under my feet, all at once.
The grief became crushing. I felt like time had run out, like I had failed. Like I was just getting started at life, and yet somehow it was already over. I was experiencing debilitating mental and emotional symptoms on top of overwhelming health fears.
My attention shifted from the motherhood decision almost immediately as I threw myself into healing with everything I had. One hundred and fifty percent. I got my hormones in balance. I changed how I moved my body and what I ate. I began looking at my shadows; really looking at the stories and patterns that had been shaping my entire life. I listened to podcasts and read books about the physical shifts that happen during perimenopause, as well as the often overlooked spiritual and identity transformations that happen for so many women during this time.
It was all helpful, but I didn’t expect where my deepest healing would come from: being in connection with other women and non-binary friends.
By sharing my experience with others who truly understood, I got to experience deep love and connection through my falling apart. Not in spite of it.
I didn’t even know that was possible.
My whole life I had held it together, believing I had to be impressive to be accepted and loved. That belief was exhausting and isolating. And in my connection with other women, that belief shattered. I was a mess. I had nothing to offer except my raw, unpolished truth. And I was seen and loved anyway, right inside my unraveling.
That experience changed my life.
I never received a clear, divine message about whether to become a mother. But what I found instead was peace. Inner okayness. Freedom from beliefs and patterns that had ruled my life for decades. Groundedness. Joy and fulfillment that had nothing to do with roles or titles or accomplishments. I learned, in my bones, that being me is enough. That I don’t need to achieve a certain number or have a certain identity to be worthy of love.
Today, I live my life from that place, from the inside out. The work is never done, and honestly, I’ve stopped expecting it to be, because the lessons keep unfolding, and I keep showing up for them.
And through all of it, what grounds me most is being in spaces with other women and non-binary people where I can process (and practice) what’s unfolding out loud. Where I can be seen and heard in the middle of it. Where someone can reflect my light back to me when I can’t quite see it myself. Where we can share what we’re moving through with less shame and loneliness because we’re not the only one.
I share this because I believe this story isn’t just mine.
Maybe you’ve felt your life shift beneath you and wondered who you are without the roles you’ve always played.
Maybe your body is changing and no one around you seems to understand.
Maybe you’ve poured yourself into a business or career that no longer fits, and you’ve been trying to figure out why it doesn’t light you up anymore.
Maybe you’ve sat with a decision so heavy it’s kept you from living fully in the present.
Maybe you’ve felt purposeless or lost and you just don’t know what you want anymore.
Your story doesn’t have to look exactly like mine. But if any part of what I’ve shared has touched something true in you, this is a space where you can be seen and held in your experience.
I’m creating Alchemy & Ash because I believe that being in community, where we can be honest about what’s hard and where our becoming gets to be witnessed and celebrated, is incredibly healing.
I know it was for me.
An online course can give you information and a step-by-step formula can give you structure. And while those can be helpful, what most women in midlife actually need is to be seen and heard by other women who understand what this feels like from the inside. That's what I'm creating here.
I’ll begin by sharing my unfiltered stories about my experience of breaking down and rising more true (I’m so excited to be here!). And soon, I’ll be opening spaces where we can gather in community to hold each other as we bravely walk through perimenopause and midlife together.
If you’re still here reading this, leave me a comment and let me know what resonates most from this post. I want to hear about your experience so I can start to mold this space into something that serves you!
Oh, and a word about belonging.
This space is centered around the perimenopause years, including the time leading into it, moving through it, and beyond it. For most of us, perimenopause happens in our 40s, but for me it started earlier and for some it starts later.
The truth is, age doesn’t matter so much here. What matters is that you’re a woman or non-binary person who is going through deep shifts in your body, identity, relationships and/or career and you want a safe place to be held through it all.
What matters, is that even though you might feel like everything is falling apart, you’re choosing to show up for yourself as you walk through this portal.
If this is you, I’m so excited to walk this path with you!
Invitation to share:
Did any part of this story feel familiar to you?
I’d love to hear what resonated.
Hey , I’m Jessie May!
At 39, perimenopause turned my life upside down and eventually became an awakening I never saw coming. Now I guide women through the whole arc of this initiation, from sitting in the void of not knowing what’s next, to finding our voices as we emerge into who we’re becoming.
I love creating spaces where we can talk about what this time feels like with people who understand. Thanks for being here, I can’t wait to get to know you!
Ways I can help
✨ Substack Coaching - For women who want to turn the experiences they’ve lived through into a meaningful Substack publication that helps others feel less alone.
✨ Perimenopause Initiation Coaching - For women waking up to themselves through the initiation of perimenopause.
Subscribe to Alchemy & Ash
A space for women unraveling and recreating their lives during the perimenopause years. Pivots, purpose, identity, patterns and turning our experiences into meaningful work … those are just some of the things we explore together here.
I can relate so much with this, we have a lot in common. I’m happy you found your way and you could figure out how to handle it. I’m still on it lol 😂
So glad you’re holding the space and doing this work. When I was 39 there were so few resources and it does help to have it.