Last time, I wrote something about World Menopause Day.
This time, I ended up researching its male counterpart—andropause.
When we get older, we become a little paranoid, so maybe that’s why I did the research. Maybe I just wanted to know what really happens—or if “andropause” is even a real word. Turns out, it is.
Andropause is like the male version of menopause, only slower and quieter. Instead of a sudden stop, it’s a slow fade. It happens when testosterone—you know, the hormone that keeps a man’s energy, focus, drive, and even confidence steady—starts to dip. Not crash, just drop a little every year.
At first, you don’t notice. Then, small things start to change:
• You wake up earlier even when you didn’t plan to.
• Coffee hits different—it’s more comfort than kick.
• You notice small aches that used to go away faster.
• Nights get quieter, but thoughts get louder.
• You look at younger people and think, “They’ll learn.”
• You crave peace more than excitement.
It’s not an illness, just a shift.
The body starts changing pace, and the mind learns to keep up.
Maybe slowing down isn’t loss at all—man, maybe it’s life giving us space to notice what really matters.
—
I wrote this back in 1989—when I thought life was already sad, even with little experience. I didn’t know that years later, I’d feel that same sadness again, but differently.
Before, sadness felt like loneliness.
Now, it feels like reflection—quiet, calm, and strangely full.
The Ashes
(10 January 1989)
The children are playing
Happy in what they’re doing
No worries on their minds
As I look on, I felt the sadness inside
Recalling the years that passed
Now seeing so many lost
The rain starts to pour
But the fire still keeps burning on
What’s left are the ashes
In the pouring rain
It’s sadness not loneliness
What’s left are the ashes
There are more to lose
And few to gain
So better lay it on the line
And helplessly watch the children as they play
⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ
