Perimenopause or a Challenging Life? Sometimes It’s Hard to Know

Posted on July 29, 2026 by The Orange Rhino

Is it my hormones changing or is life simply challenging? Seriously. I’m tired of the narrative that everything is perimenopause, or even menopause. Yes, a lot of women are struggling with the reality of perimenopause and menopause. I am far from dismissing that. I mean shoot, I’m one of them. The brain fog is real. And brain fog is an understatement. I forgot my son’s best friend’s name the other day. A kid I’ve known since second grade.

Hello perimenopause symptoms! And the song lyrics, “Cause you’re hot then you’re cold / You’re ‘Yes’ then you’re ‘No’” Well Katy Perry wrote my theme song. And probably millions of other women my age. And while it is great that perimenopause is finally having its time in the spotlight and women are getting the support we need, I hate to say it, but it is being used as a crutch in places. A place to put blame. A way to dismiss reality, real feelings.

An easy out for a woman who is truly struggling because her life is actually, truly DIFFICULT. One professional, “Oh it’s *just* perimenopause. You’re simply extra emotional.” And what if it isn’t? What if sometimes life is just hard because, wait for it…it just is?

And the hormones are making it worse but aren’t the culprit? This is a question and a debate I’ve had with my therapist and my doctor for a while now. I got on the computer for my virtual doctor’s appointment last week and got right to the point. “Listen. I know I’m in perimenopause. I know my changing hormones aren’t helping AND ALSO… I feel like I’m going to cry every afternoon. I have more panic attacks than I ever have.

My exhaustion and sense of overwhelm some days is new, next level. And I don’t think it is just because of the hormones. My life is simply hard. Harder than it has been in a long time. The hormones aren’t helping.” And then I do what I do. I spoke in metaphors;) “Picture an ice cream sundae.” She smiled at this one. “My life is a five scoop ice cream sundae. It’s being eaten outside on a 90 degree day. I’m one scoop, each kid is a scoop I’m taking care of. We are already naturally melting from the heat of life. The hot fudge is perimenopause. It’s simply expediting the meltdown.”

I continued. “Point being. I’m melting. Something needs to change. My medication isn’t fully working anymore and hormones? Sure, adding them might help, but it isn’t the full solution because perimenopause isn’t the only problem.”

My doctor looked at me. And simply said, “I get it. It’s all too much. Just too much. Here’s the plan. We’re adding this medication. Take it in case of emergency. When the sense of overwhelm hits hard. You might need it, you might not. The season you are in is temporary.”

I said thank you. Closed the computer and sighed a sigh of relief. It has taken me months to admit I needed to change medication. I just keep telling myself, strike that, blaming myself. Blaming myself for not managing well enough. For not handling the stress well enough.

“Just try harder. Take more deep breaths. Exercise more. Rest more. Laugh more.” Yada. Yada. Yada. Yes. All those things might and will help AND ALSO, my life is heavy right now. It is wonderful and I am grateful AND it is heavy and challenging. There comes a point where part of the solution is asking, what other kind of support do I need? The medicine she added, my addition to my bag of tricks for supporting myself during this season?

The last time it was in my repertoire was 2016 when my divorce began. When I had days I couldn’t breathe. When it all felt “just too much,” as she said. I got through those days. It’s 10 years later. I never thought I would need that medication again.

But life happens. Gray happens. It isn’t a reflection of me, of my lack of ability to manage stress or the challenges that come my way. It is just a reflection of the reality I’m living right now. Life can be very hard. And sometimes people hold that very close to their chest because they have no choice but to do so. That just makes it heavier, doesn’t it?

Perimenopause doesn’t pause any of that from happening. It just makes it worse.

But what truly makes it all worse is using perimenopause as a scapegoat for real, heavy emotional feelings people are experiencing. Gray happens.

And it can hit hard and heavy. Admitting it, acknowledging it? Not a scapegoat. Figuring out support isn’t a scapegoat either. These are all the ways orange begins to make the gray lighter.

Sending my warmth to you today, especially if any part of this post resonated a little too close. Trust me, it isn’t just you and me feeling this way.

xoxo, Sheila
🧡 The Orange Rhino

Don’t Let a Disability Tell You What You’re Capable Of

Posted on March 19, 2026 by The Orange Rhino

There is no polite way for me to write this post. I’ve actually waited a few days (and months) so I could be “cool, calm, and collected.” Truth? I’m not sure I will ever be entirely cool, calm, and collected about this. This post is for any parent, child, or person who has ever been told they weren’t good enough because they have a disability. Or because they learn differently. Or because they learn more slowly. Do not, I repeat, do not, let anyone tell you that you are not good enough to become what you want to become.

I have four sons. I’m sharing this with permission. One of my sons has severe ADHD, auditory processing and other learning challenges. He was bullied by students and teacher aides alike. In 6th grade, an aide said to him, “You will never go to college or succeed.” Imagine if he had listened?!

Well, he didn’t. Instead, he basically said, “Oh yeah? Watch me.” He is now at a top college, on scholarship, getting good grades, and studying to become a special education teacher. Because he had a few of us rooting for him, pointing out to him the good we saw in him; his strengths, his opportunities. We believed in him until he could for himself.

Another one of my sons has struggled since kindergarten. In 3rd grade, his teacher told him, “We don’t have books at your reading level in this classroom. You’re a big kid now. You need to try harder. Stop being lazy.” Lazy? I told her to look at the facts. To look at everything else he could do; how hard he worked, how hard he was trying to find ways to help himself read! I said, “He is not lazy. He is struggling to read. There is something we are missing. Help.”

Fast forward two years. I asked the elementary school principal for extra support going into middle school. “We don’t proactively add support.” Right…

Middle school was a challenge. His mental health took a hit; his homework, tests, quizzes, you name it, took a hit. A child who used to love learning, who tried so hard, slowly stopped trying. I pushed again for help. And I was asked, “Are you sure you’re not being a helicopter parent? Overbearing? Maybe trying to get him extra help just so he gets A’s? We see that a lot in this town.”

The fact that I stayed polite at that moment?

Honestly, a true Orange Rhino® moment. Because no. That was not it. I said, “He is masking. He is truly struggling. You’re missing it. I need you to trust me.” They didn’t. They kept insisting he needed to try harder.

And now? That child has an IEP because one person finally listened to me. One person took the time to look beyond the struggles to see the strengths. My son has a learning disability, including a form of dyslexia.

And the testing showed it is not mild. Cue the tears. Cue my rage. Cue the heartbreak of knowing I was right and that it took years to get him all of the support he needed. (I had gotten him other support but what he needed most was in school.) But here is what I need people to understand: A child (anyone really) who learns differently should not be written off. Different pace. Different path. Different strengths.

Still capable. Still worthy. Still full of potential. My boys are proof of that. Their struggles have built empathy. Determination. Resilience. Leadership qualities. Yes, I wish parts of their journey had been easier. Of course I do.

And I know they feel the same. But who they have become because they kept going? Because they had to try harder to learn and to (sadly) prove themselves to the world and sometimes to themselves? I would not change who they have become for the world. Who they are in heart, grit, perspective, and character is second to none.

So let me say this loudly: Let’s stop confusing disability with inability. A disability is not a disqualification. And different does not mean less. (argh!) Sending my warmth and a little extra oomph to you all today and always, and an extra amount of love and support to any parent who knows and feels this post all too well.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

Skin Cancer Surgery, Fear and the Relief of Not Being Judged

Posted on February 25, 2026 by The Orange Rhino

I kept trying not to cry. I knew getting upset would make it all hurt more. But I couldn’t help it. I did okay during the local anesthesia on my scalp. I made some weird noises out of discomfort. Wiggled my feet even. Otherwise I stayed perfectly still (kinda had no choice lol) The nurse? No judgement. Just a loving, gentle, “it’s okay, make all the noises you need to make. Wiggle your toes. Hum. Whatever helps you.

You’re doing great.” How nice not to be judged. Next up? Shaving my scalp. The minute they started to shave my head, the tears slowly formed at the corner of my eyes. I willed myself to stop because I knew if my blood pressure went up, it would create more pressure in the area where the procedure was about to take place. I successfully stopped (after a nice little pep talk with myself.) But then came round two of the procedure.

My face was covered. More hair needed to be shaved. Darnit. I tried and tried but couldn’t stop the tears. It was a much bigger area than expected.

When they were done, the cloth was removed from my face and the nurse, again so loving and gentle, and without judgement, said, “Oh, I see a tear.” Before I could ask, she had a tissue in hand and was dabbing my tears away. No, “are you okay?” or even a toxic positive pep talk. She instantly acted, let me feel, and didn’t make me talk or explain. She saw me. She was with me. She let me be me. Such an incredible gift.

Truth is that I was embarrassed for crying. I have had four of these procedures, one even on my eyelid, and I’ve never cried.

But this? This just hits different. I was so appreciative of her in that moment. The entire team knew the size of skin removed was larger than planned. The doctor knows me by now since we see each other every 6 months or so for a MOHs procedure. I’m so grateful for him and his team. Such incredibly kind, loving people. My plastic surgeon and his team were also reassuring. He did a great job. Kept me out of the operating room (which both he and my other surgeon didn’t know if it was possible) and was able to hide most of the scar in the hair.

I will still look different. But it is so much better than other outcomes. And now to go look for the most awesome daily beach hat to wear so I don’t need to keep repeating this little pattern. Oddly enough, I love, love, love hats but don’t like how I look in them.

But then again, that’s how I felt about sunglasses and now I found a pair I like. Who knows, maybe I’ll find one that can be embroidered with a cute ‘lil Orange Rhino?! Hoping you all are having a good week so far, and thanking you for your loving messages yesterday. (I’m still catching up. Did lots of sleeping yesterday and today.)

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

One Year Without Alcohol: What I’ve Learned About Sobriety

Posted on January 14, 2026 by The Orange Rhino

1 year (and 1 week) of no alcohol. Honestly, I never thought I would be sharing that. I never thought I’d be setting a goal to stop drinking. I mean sure, I gave up alcohol four times during my pregnancies and when I nursed, but that was different. I knew that was short lived. And honestly, life was less stressful then. I didn’t crave alcohol back then. There were so many times this year when I didn’t think I would make it through the year. As recently as December.

“Screw it,” I thought to myself just weeks ago. “I’ve made it this far, I’m just having a drink. I need it.”

“Nope Sheil. Same logic. You’ve made it this far. Keep going. One more day. Have hot chocolate instead. Have a tonic and lime. Rim a glass with sugar and pour in cranberry seltzer. Anything else to relax. You don’t actually need a drink to feel better.”

It wasn’t easy.

Saying no to the quick fix when life got loud.
Staying present in the hard moment instead of numbing.
Being in certain situations where drinks were normal.
Margaritas poolside.
Red wine by the fire.
Cosmos at my favorite restaurant.
Gin and tonics on Friday nights.
Realizing how much I missed alcohol and wanting to feel better (which really meant, it was the right decision to be walking away from it not just for a year, but in general…which really meant acknowledging it was indeed, an issue.)
Feeling isolated in social situations, being the one not drinking.
Or being ignored at a restaurant once the waitress realizes your bill will be less because you aren’t ordering alcohol. (That was fascinating.)

So yeah this past year wasn’t easy.

But I did it.

One no to the drink, one yes to my goal, at a time. And it feels good. On so many levels. Better sleep. Better skin 🙂 Better health. More self-confidence. Only area for improvement? The taste lol. Definitely need to find more options! It doesn’t taste so good!! Thank you all for your words of encouragement and support along the way. They have meant so much. And congrats to all of you in this community who are on a similar journey and also going one moment, one step at a time!

I have a lot more to say on this topic and am curious if there is interest 🙂 It kinda reminds me of another topic I wrote about years ago. A taboo topic where people wanted to talk about it, but also were hesitant too. Send me a DM or drop a comment if interested.

Sending my warmth to you on this Wednesday,

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino

When Your Feelings Surprise You at the Doctor’s Office

Posted on October 24, 2025 by The Orange Rhino

Here’s the thing –> I truly didn’t realize how I felt which is how I got to this photo. So yeah, holy moly do I have a story for you all! I have a *hunch* you all might just relate and maybe, just maybe (okay I hope lol) you’ve had a similar experience lately? If not, just fib and say, yes, Sheila, of course we have!

So yesterday, I had a doctor’s appointment to review my adhd medication and antidepressants. No shame there ladies (and gentleman or two I think.) Yep I have anxiety and situational depression that I deal with – it is what it is.

Anyway, standard question. “Sooo, how’s it going?” I hadn’t seen this doctor in three months. Like, I was going to answer this question quick and easy peasy?

I gave bullet points. “Well, let’s see. All my kids are giving me agita at the same time – this has never, ever happened in my life. (I proceeded to share details. Fairly certain heart rate proceeded to increase as well.) I am worried about each one and it’s impacting my sleep. I legit have stressmares where I am processing all the challenges.” I said.

“Okay….” She said, as I interrupted her.

“But wait, there’s more! The renovation has basically been an emotional and literal disaster even though I’m grateful. It is exhausting and taking up so much time. Plus I’m trying to kinda sorta launch a company which I could drop so I could focus more on parenting but honestly, I am already giving so much to parenting and I need to give to me too and my work is for me, it gives me hope, joy, life. You know?” I shared.

“Uh huh.” She kinda looked at me, like is there more. (Obviously, I’m truncating things here.)

“So basically, I’m just going moment by moment. It’s a lot. So much is urgent. I get through each day, wishing I had more laughter, more enjoyment even though I’ve had glimpses. The season is what it is. It’s going to get easier soon. And I know that. It is just hard right now. As I tell my community, it’s kinda lots of gray.”

Before we wrapped up the meeting I let her know that some lady yelled at me in the parking lot over the parking space I used, accusing me of parking illegally. Like what the what? I wanted to confirm I used the right spot for next time. News splash – I did. The lady just wanted to yell at me? I guess she was having a bad day, moment…aren’t we kinda all sometimes?

Kindness my friends. Ugh. We wrapped up, I admired the gorgeous pink and orange flowers in the reception area, and left. Hadn’t shed a tear even though I was close. “Huh, I guess I am handling this stress fairly well. Alrighty then.”

As I drove home, on a new path I didn’t know too well, I came to an intersection and all of a sudden, “oh shite! I’m in the wrong lane.” One angry driver next to me starts blasting his horn at me and flying his hands all around, screaming at me at the same time.

Facts.

I made a simple mistake.
It didn’t cause an accident.
It wasn’t going to – there was space for both of us to merge.
Calm the bejeebers down, I’m sorry, it wasn’t intentional.

I did arm movements to show it was an “oops” and mouthed “I’m so sorry.” He let me go and holy smokes –> I promptly burst, and I mean, burst into tears and said, “I’m just so tired of all the friggin’ challenges and mistakes! I’m doing my best darn it!”

Full blown tears people. As fast and furiously as he hit the horn. I was shocked. I wanted to blame hormones – because that is the internet’s go-to. Oh, menopause, hormones, crying for so reason.

But then I said to myself, “Sheila, screw that. Your tears are real. You are exhausted from how hard life has been. You have been go-go-going for good reason. It has been hard. Challenging. Frustrating. Disappointing. You’ve been doing your best. You don’t want to be yelled at for it. Of course that put you over. You want love. Care. Concern. You want people to show up for you— not put you down, as this man just did. As people in several of the projects you are working on have done recently. This was the straw that broke the gray rhinos back. You are human, girl. Maybe perimenopausal too, but human first!” I then wiped my tears. Laughed at myself because, perspective. I couldn’t believe that it took a man honking at me, something I can normally tolerate, to show me I need a break.

And then I promptly drove into the Wendy’s drive through for a fountain diet coke because the bubbles always taste good and I wanted to do something for me. SO this is where you go to the comments and say, “Sheil, me too. Been there, done that.” Pick any of these, tell me you get it, lol. Copy the emoji you get, or create your own.

1 the sudden crying because holy heck hit your limit!

2 the exhaustion from showing up because that is simply what you need to do right now

3 the telling yourself you refuse to let hormones be the answer to all your REAL feelings and experiences

4 the love of the bubbles in diet coke (now I want one and no seltzer is just not the same)

5 the knowing that people are showing up for you but at the same time, feeling a little unseen

This picture makes me smile, laugh, and also remember.

Girl, take a break. Get outside. Enjoy the sunshine and then take one small step to get something done because I do have things to do and letting them pile up will create stress and that is not needed. No thank you. It’s a balance.

Sending my warmth to go with your strength, today and always, and especially if this photo and story are relatable – especially if point #5, is more than relatable. I get it. It might not seem like it, but I do see you.

xoxo, Sheila

🧡 The Orange Rhino