Eight Chairs

Nobody has asked a follow-up question in eleven years.

Tag her. She knows.

Changed? Yes. Upgraded.

Tag her! 🪑

Part two, as promised.

Part one was everything that got harder. This is the half nobody bothers to mention.

You did not get worse. You got harder to waste time on.

Which one are you already doing? Tell me below.

And send it to the friend who’s still saying yes to the bake sale.

Fall 2026. Join the waitlist, link in bio.

“Everything looks normal” while you feel like a stranger in your own body. Demand the other test. Advocate for yourself.

“Just relax”. Say it again. I dare you.

We put it on a shirt. It’s says TRY ME on the front.
The sleeve says “that’ll be fun” 🪑

Part one. There is absolutely a part two.

Nobody hands you a pamphlet for the identity part. They hand you a pamphlet for the night sweats.

Which number were you? Drop it below.

Then send this to the friend who has been a little off lately. She thinks it’s just her.

Fall 2026. Join the waitlist, link in bio.

Say “just stress” to a perimenopausal woman one more time. I’ll wait. 🪑

She’s not dramatic. She’s finally letting herself be.

Tag a friend who deserves to hear this. 🪑

It’s 2am. You’re awake. You’re hot, then cold, then crying at a paper towel commercial, then quietly furious at the ceiling.

You text a friend, half expecting “go back to sleep.”

Instead: “OMG ME TOO.”

It’s never just you.

What’s your 2am text? 👇