The last butterfly: The Insert

“Okay, this will be a small insertion under the hip,” the doctor says. “This should help with the night sweats, irritability, and brain fog. But I do need to let you know that some possible side effects include an increased libido and voice changes.” We both laugh.

Sidebar: If you have ever experienced childbirth, you know there is a moment when the pain still feels manageable. The nurse asks if you want an epidural, and calmly, confidently, you decline because in your mind, you’re thinking, It’s not that bad.

Fast forward six hours later, and this tiny person in your belly is now desperately searching for an exit. The pain has gone from manageable to absolutely excruciating. The nurse asks again, “Do you want an epidural?” and this time your answer is immediate: “Yes.”

Now, this “yes” is very different from the polite decline six hours earlier. This “yes” is urgent. Desperate, even.

Then the nurse returns and begins listing the possible side effects: numbness, paralysis, brain damage, even death…and honestly, at that point, you do not care. You just want relief. And you respond “yeah, yeah, yeah lady just give it to me.” Thinking the worse that could happen is death and you could care a less.

That’s exactly how she felt in this stage of her life. She just wanted relief. I don’t care. Just give me the insert. How bad can it be?

The doctor continues, “I’ll give you some medication to numb the area, and afterward, there will be a bandage covering it. You can remove it in four days. Let me know if you experience any complications.”

“Thank you,” she replies.

As she leaves the office, she feels energized and hopeful, excited about what this new medication might do for her. The possibility of no longer enduring endless night sweats, exhaustion, and brain fog feels like peace—like finally being offered a moment of relief after fighting her body for far too long.

In the next couple of weeks, the night sweats begin to fade, and something entirely unexpected takes their place: her libido skyrockets. Suddenly, she is reaching for her husband three or four times a week, craving intimacy in a way she hasn’t felt in years. At first, he is surprised—pleasantly surprised—but eventually even he starts to feel exhausted trying to keep up with his wife’s newfound desire.

By week three, she finally admits what she thinks may be happening. The new medication she has been taking seems to have awakened something inside of her, intensifying her attraction to him and stirring desires she thought had long since quieted. Her husband is flattered, amused even, but also struggling to adjust to her new lovemaking regimen.

As the weeks continue, her desire only grows stronger. What once felt occasional now feels constant, almost consuming at times. And with that awakening comes an unexpected flood of questions she never imagined herself asking. She begins wondering when the last time was that she experienced truly unforgettable passion before she met her husband. Not because she loves him any less, but because something inside her has shifted—something physical, emotional, and deeply personal.

The change leaves her both intrigued and unsettled. For years, her body felt tired, overstimulated by life, responsibilities, stress, and exhaustion. Now suddenly, it feels awake again. Hungry again. Alive in ways she had almost forgotten were possible.

And perhaps that is one of the strangest parts of this season of life: just when she thought menopause would signal the shutting down of her womanhood, parts of her begin roaring back to life instead.

And the roar grows louder with each passing day. What began as a spark has now become a fire she can barely contain. The thoughts arrive unexpectedly—in the middle of meetings, while folding laundry, driving to work, even standing in line at the grocery store. Desire has taken up permanent residence in her mind, refusing to be ignored.

And then the unthinkable crosses her mind. She begins considering reaching out to the man from nearly thirty years ago—the affair that once brought her a kind of passion she had never forgotten.

How insane is that?

Her mind keeps telling herself this is crazy, reckless even. But her body is screaming something entirely different. A hunger. A longing. A level of passion she never imagined could still exist inside of her at this stage of life. And not just any passion—this specific memory, this particular man, now living rent-free in her head like an unfinished chapter her body suddenly wants to reread.

The conflict inside of her becomes exhausting. On one side is the woman she has always known herself to be: responsible, grounded, loyal, practical. On the other side is this awakened version of herself—raw, restless, curious, and aching to feel desired on a level she cannot fully explain.

Eventually, she confides in her closest girlfriends, only to discover she is far from alone. Several of them are experiencing the exact same thing after starting hormone inserts and medications of their own. The conversations become both hilarious and deeply revealing women whispering confessions they never thought they would say out loud. Sleeplessness. Sudden cravings for intimacy. Fantasies returning after years of dormancy. Bodies waking up in ways they were never warned about.

Some admit they have gone as far as purchasing toys, searching for some kind of release for the relentless itch they can’t seem to satisfy. Others joke that their husbands are exhausted, confused, or secretly thrilled. Beneath the laughter, though, there is something deeper: a quiet realization that no one prepared them for this side of womanhood either.

No one warned them that after years of feeling invisible, tired, overworked, and disconnected from their own sensuality, their bodies might suddenly come roaring back to life, demanding attention.

Although the thought of an affair was intriguing, she kept reminding herself that the grass is not always greener on the other side. Still, a restless part of her was becoming dangerously curious—curious enough to wonder if she should go see for herself. The thought both excited and terrified her.

And perhaps that is what makes it all feel so dangerous. Because this is not simply about sex. It is about awakening. About longing. About remembering parts of themselves they thought had disappeared forever.