From Hot Girl Summers to Hot Flashes

Listen, if you had told my 25-year-old self that one day my definition of "turning up" would involve a high-powered ceiling fan, wine in a Stanley cup and compression socks, I would have laughed you right out of the room.

Back in the day!? It was all about the Hot Girl Summer. We were out here glistening, glowing, and body-rolling until 2:00 AM without a single ache or pain. My midsection was tight, my stamina was infinite, and that summer breeze felt like a music video backdrop.

Fast forward to 45. The only thing "hot" about my summer these days is the internal combustion engine currently operating in my chest... yeah heartburn! If it's not there, it's my ass burning from jalapeños I just had to have.

The Great Body Metamorphosis

The upgrade to midlife came with a few... unauthorized modifications.

• The Abs? Traded them in. Apparently, my body decided a washboard was too much work and gifted me some premium, top-tier jelly rolls instead.

  
  

• The Waistline? It expanded its territory. I’ve got love handles that are less like handles and more like a full-on embrace, anchored by a gut that absolutely refuses to be ignored inside my high waisted jeans.

  
  

• The Silhouette? This is the one that really gets me. My perfect, gravity-defying, round ass is currently morphing into a square, wide... something. I don't even know what geometric shape to call it anymore. It’s just out here taking up space and living its own truth.

  
  

But Make It Yellow 💛

But you know what? Even with this new, softer shape and the sudden, unprovoked heat waves that make me want to rip my own skin off, the confidence didn't go anywhere. You still can't tell me shit!

This weekend, that bright yellow two-piece swimsuit is coming out of the drawer. Yes, the two-piece. I didn't survive decades of life, growth, and evolution to hide under a burlap sack just because my shape shifted. The jelly rolls are going to catch this sun, the love handles are going to be on display, and that wide square situation in the back is going to sit comfortably in the beach chair.

The truth is: I still love me. Every single changed inch of me.

Grateful for the Vessel

When I look in the mirror, I don't see a downgrade. I see a woman who has lived, birthed, loved, and for dam sure: ate!

This body—with its hot flashes, soft middle, and new dimensions—is the holy vessel that has carried me through this beautiful, chaotic thing called life. It has loved, it has labored, it has protected me, and it has kept me standing. It’s strong, it’s resilient, and it deserves to be celebrated, not hidden away.

So here’s to 45. It’s hotter than I expected (literally, someone pass the ice water), but the joy is deeper, the peace is sweeter, and the yellow bikini is staying on. Happy Hot Flash Perimenopausal Summer, y'all!