A couple of months ago, I had a doctor’s appointment that was in a word… disappointing. I scheduled the appointment because I wanted guidance on how to walk through this whole *waves hand in the air* perimenopause stage that has me feeling like a stranger in my own body. When I explained my symptoms to the doctor amidst tears, she acted like I was explaining that the sun comes up in the east and sets in the west. In other words, she looked mighty bored and disinterested.

And despite being armed with information about my supplements and eating habits and ready to talk about all the things that might help or hinder my frustrating symptoms, none of that entered our conversation. My doctor didn’t ask and didn’t seem to care.

But hey, she looked all of 15 years old, so how was she supposed to understand what being 50 feels like? (Said with no small amount of sarcasm.)

It’s super fun to vulnerably turn your heart inside out to someone — only to have that person not receive what you’re saying. (Said no one.)

After my appointment, I speed-walked back to my car. And when I pulled the car door shut, I cried yet again. This office came highly recommended, and it took five months to get an appointment. I had been so incredibly hopeful that I would leave with reassurance and practical care options. Instead, I left with frustration and a heaping dose of disappointment.

Now let’s contrast that to my most recent visit to the same office, but with a different doctor. While I was only scheduled for my yearly well check, the doctor asked if I had anything I’d like to discuss. I took the opportunity to relay a lot of the same info I had relayed to her colleague two months earlier. But unlike my last visit, this doctor listened intently and asked several follow-up questions, told me she understood what I was going through, and offered numerous options for what I could do next.

After this appointment, I practically skipped to my car, contemplating a few twirls in the parking lot à la Maria von Trapp in The Sound of Music. As I pulled my car door shut, I proceeded to message a girlfriend in my same life stage and relay my positive experience to her.

What a difference a kind, listening ear can make in helping one feel validated and capable rather than crazy.

While you may not be in my stage of life, you likely know what it is to be flattened by words that at best discourage you and at worst break your spirit.

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