“Forget sweating like a pig,” a friend recently commented to me. “I’m sweating like a 50 year old woman!”

Oh, can I relate! It’s not the most glamorous subject, but lately, sweat is a part of my daily life. When did this start? When did it change? How is it still changing – and will it stop?

Breaking out in a sweat after my shower, causing my facial moisturizer to bead up and drip – Mopping my brow while strenuously boiling water for pasta or washing dishes – Unable to stand the smell of my baseball cap and workout clothes post-walk – sweating on the back of my legs enough to leave visible moisture on a chair and stains on my clothes – evaluating the layers I need to wear to an office meeting or presentation to cover armpit sweat and/or to change into later – leaving a slimy pool on the headrest of the Pilates reformer – cutting my hair really short when I know I’ll be working long-term in a humid location – using antiperspirant and baby powder under my undergarments to prevent show-thru…sound familiar?

As I get older, things my mother experienced come floating back to mind. For example, she always kept her very curly hair very short. This had several advantages. Little styling required, her hair was great to deal with when she swam in our pool (it sprang back into the tight curls) but it was thin enough that it didn’t ease her burden in humid locations. At home in Southern California or on our road trips around the country, she often mopped her large forehead, saying “I sweat from the head” with a laugh. Now, when 10 minutes of vacuuming causes water to drip from my temples, I hear the echo of her statement and her laugh, but it’s not often humor that I feel.

I was never an athlete and we live in a desert, so for a long time, I had attributed my new personal humidity to the long charity walks I was doing, and the atmosphere in China when I worked there. My workout clothes reeked in new and disturbing ways (no matter what I ate or how much deodorant I used). I had to have a scarf or bandanna with me at all times in Shanghai (though sometimes that came in handy for filtering the air as well). I noticed some of the expatriate women I worked with in China also kept wicking scarves around their necks, but it wasn’t until a couple of years after that project that I started to think the changes were hormonal.

Those gals with the scarves were a few years older than I was. They made no mention of hormones, and no complaint other than to agree the 98 degree temp with 98 percent humidity added to a challenging work environment. So I didn’t think anything of it. I went to Florida a couple of times for other assignments and again, just figured I was not used to the humidity. My significantly younger female teammates were also significantly fitter than I, so I attributed my extra sweat to extra weight. But then last summer, I went to Tokyo, where I was one of only two American females on our work team. The half-mile hike from the bus stop to the office was not a great way to set me up for the day! I’d arrive sweaty from the head, of course, not to mention the back and the crotch – so lovely! And it was taking me a very long time to cool down, so I’d get there early and hang out in the freezing-cold conference room. I carried a stack of moist herbal towels with me (Herban Essentials), which were a revelation. Late in the trip, I found out that there was a “cooling room” among the office suites. I vow that I will take advantage next time, though it doesn’t afford the privacy I need to wipe down completely with my little herbal towels. Also in Tokyo, I spent an evening being touristy with a male colleague who was half my age. We had a blast and saw a lot, while I envied his energy, tried to keep up, and made every effort to stay downwind. Again, the humidity there is profound, but I could no longer ignore that this perpetual moisture and odor was just happening to ME.

Just prior to the pandemic, I gave a presentation at work – relatively high profile, a idea that was being ushered through the system at a pretty quick pace. I had confidence in the concept and was excited to present to a senior executive. I carefully planned my wardrobe of the day, since business wear was in order. Some personal mistiness was expected, since the office was way down the end of the fourth floor and the presentation was for the location president. And this was the first time I was pitching this kind of a creative idea. When I’d been sitting in the air conditioned ante-office for a while, chatting with my colleagues, I felt my heat rising. Great time for a hot flash! Nerves certainly contributed but now the waterworks weren’t going to stop any time soon. I started to fan myself and the woman who was also pitching today – a little older than I am, also heavyset – asked if I was okay. “Oh yeah,” I said out loud, and then mouthed, “hormones,” to her. She picked up a magazine from the coffee table and sympathetically began to fan me with it. I wasn’t entirely sure this was a hot flash, but the sweat was real, so either way the extra air movement helped. Sisterhood in action…despite the fact we were being pitted against one another! Lucky for me, the president I was pitching to was a woman in her late fifties, so I knew that if the hot flash came back, she would understand me fanning or taking off my jacket.

Interesting world in business, huh? There still aren’t enough women in high places in my workplace, but in this moment, I didn’t have to suffer the embarrassment of standing out as female. As a woman of established age and experience. Though I was (and am) a sweaty-ass peri-menopausal woman, there was a sense of solidarity, and I was able to present my creative idea to a room full of people with full confidence. I continued to sweat from my head and had a square of paper towel in my pocket available to mop up the droplets, and I was first to pitch. Luckily, Mme. President spent 20 minutes getting grounded on our topic, so my tropical season had mostly passed by the time she was ready to hear my concept.

As summer comes in So Cal, I won’t be the only one sweating. I’ll blend right in with my sweaty teens and Pilates group. Later in the coming months, though, pandemic allowing, I have some upcoming work assignments in Florida and Tokyo again. I will pack lots of herbal towels, antiperspirant, powder, and hankies, for sure. I hope by then that I’ll either be through this part of the experience, or be surrounded by some more sympathetic sisters…or be so used to my personal humidity that, like my mom, I can accept, explain, and laugh it off with ease.