Last Updated on 15 April, 2026 by Cara Sutra
This piece is the introduction to a sub-category of my Life Unscripted series of personal reflections here at CaraSutra, a category I’m calling The Midlife Rebellion: Ageing, Body & Womanhood. In the immortal and only slightly edited words of Bon Jovi, “It’s my midlife”. But whose rebellion is it? Mine or my body’s? Or is it both? Let’s find out together. Welcome to my midlife rebellion.
Of course I’d heard that life begins at 40, I just hadn’t realised what sort of a life they meant. I’ll be 46 this July, and ageing as a woman has been a pretty rough ride so far. Not all bad, but difficult enough to demand I make some tough decisions and impacting life changes. You’ll notice I’ve written about these various health, emotional and hormonal changes elsewhere on the blog, but I wanted to create a specific area for these, as I have a lot more to say on the subject.
I’d expected midlife to be a gentle transition. Some delicate wrinkles appearing, a few grey hairs. At some point in my 50s I would reach menopause. My periods would stop forever, signalling the end of my life’s reproductive era. I would become one of those calm and happy women on the cruise adverts, sipping something delicious on a lounger whilst cruising through a beautiful, sunny part of the world. My radiant smile confirming the end of cares and worries such as work or small children to look after. Retired, content, confident in white jeans and comfortable shoes.
It hasn’t been like that at all.
Instead of midlife and menopause in my 50s, I was ambushed by this devious duo at the start of my 40s. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know what to expect, and what I experienced was nothing like how I’d vaguely imagined it all in the blissful ignorance of my 20s and 30s. I won’t go into it in detail here, because you can read about my painful entry into perimeno, in Hello, Perimenopause. I hadn’t even realised perimeno was a thing, despite being a sexual educator. I thought life was just youth, middle-age, menopause, happy retirement.
Sadly, this new phase of my life also triggered chronic illness, which is an ongoing battle with no light at the end of the tunnel. All I can do is accept, adapt, rest and pace.
Instead of calmly sailing through the golden years of my life, I feel dashed upon the rocks of middle age, and spewed up on to a shore of a foreign, hostile land. My youthful looks have gone, which was to be expected, but having my health and energy stolen from me as well feels intolerably cruel. I’m different, I’m tired, and I’m ill. I’ve had no choice in any of this; I don’t consent to living my life in this new, painfully slow way. I feel trapped in a physical dictatorship, like I’m not in charge of my own body anymore. It might sound extreme, but I honestly feel violated and ruined.
The changes to my life, to me, have been both sudden and insidiously gradual. It’s like I was plucked out of my usual way of living early in 2022 and dropped into the maelstrom of perimenopause. I can pinpoint the exact weekend I developed M.E. in spring 2025. These two enormous life changes rose up like a tsunami, but the ripples from these changes are still felt daily now, in spring 2026. There’s an ebb and flow as I’m constantly rocked by this tidal change; some days it’s just a little choppy, other days I have to batten down the hatches and lay low until the worst of the storm passes.
Throughout it all, I retain my rebellious spirit. I’ll admit that on my worst days, I don’t feel very rebellious at all. I don’t have the energy, the strength. It’s tempting to give up, but how? No, there’s no choice but to carry on – somehow, some way. On my better days, like today, I’m determined not to become crushed under the weight of it all.
This determination is very different to the determination of my younger years. Then, being determined meant showing strength and capability. Movement, action, achieving, conquering. Now that I’m older and changed, my simple determination is to never give up. To carry on in spite of the difficulties, in spite of the tiredness and pain, and changes in my body, hormones, and mood. Keep on keeping on; yes, even if it’s at a snail’s pace, even if it just looks like getting out of bed in the morning, getting washed and dressed and facing the day rather than lacing up my trainers and exercising 3 hours a day in order to feel able to respect myself.
None of this is easy. Being forced to be a different person is uncomfortably confronting, to put it mildly. I’m trying to wrestle back some control of my own body and life by actively choosing to do certain things rather than being forced into them. Choosing to pace and pre-emptively rest, before I’m forced to suffer a crash. Choosing to opt out of physical exercise, because I know I simply can’t tolerate that anymore, not where I am right now at least. Choosing to nourish myself instead of punishing myself. Remaining strong in my sobriety, even though my dedication is constantly challenged. Consistently attending therapy for my psychological health, and hopeful healing. Prioritising my needs, instead of setting myself on fire to keep others warm.
This is what my midlife rebellion looks like. I didn’t choose most of these changes, but what I am choosing is to embrace them as much as possible. I’m still alive, still fighting – even if at times I’m fighting from a horizontal position on the sofa – and I’m still hopeful that in the years to come, my health and capacity will improve.
In this sub-series of my Life Unscripted series, I will write in detail about how it feels to age as a woman. The physical, psychological and emotional changes. The impact on my relationship with my husband, and with my children. How all of this has been affected by society’s expectations, and cultural conditioning. How it feels living and growing as a girl, then a woman, in a patriarchal world from the 1980s up to the improved but still-not-perfect 21st century. What it’s like to age as me, in particular, because I can only write all of this from my own perspective of course. Ageing publicly as a sex blogger in the adult industry, and the effects of ageing on my confidence and approach as a BDSM Domme.
The result of sharing all of this will, I hope, be two-fold. I aim to better understand what I’m going through by writing about each aspect in depth, reclaiming my agency and making this part of my life a more comfortable journey. Secondly, I hope to provide comfort and company to anyone else approaching or battling through midlife, particularly if you’re a woman or have physiology affected by perimenopause and the related hormones.
I won’t be providing condescending reassurance that this part of life is all pearly-white smiles and smooth sailing. I won’t claim to have found some miracle treatment or drug that fixes all your ills. What I will do is write about exactly what I’ve been through and what I’m going through as a middle-aged woman, and hope that my experiences resonate. You’re not alone in this. Ready to join my rebellion?
