Things That Make You Go Hmmm...
- Stacey Hirshman
- Feb 16
- 4 min read
It’s been just over a year since I began writing a weekly blog. In that time I’ve covered many topics I thought would resonate with midlife women — because, quite frankly, they resonate with me and most of my friends, who are also midlife women (give or take a few years 😉).
We’ve talked about fasting, metabolic switching, sleep, stress, brain health, hormones, overwhelm — the greatest hits of midlife physiology.

My intent was (and remains) to share nuggets from my trainings – things I’ve learned from my teachers and mentors that have shaped the practitioner I strive to be: one who focuses on the impact of nutrition and lifestyle on the way our body functions for us.
I’m not the gal who will tell you all the tests you need in order to figure out why you have gas, bloating, or reflux. (Sure, I can order all those tests — but it’s never the place I start).
My mission is to help you pay attention to the signals your body is sending — to treat them as information. Clues. Breadcrumbs. Not flaws.
So why bring all of this up now?
Because over the past couple of weeks, there’s been a lot of chatter in my industry about several high-profile health and wellness “experts” (both male) whose names surfaced in the Epstein files. The revelations sparked strong reactions — particularly among female practitioners and influencers — about what many are calling the health/wellness “bro culture” and the influence it has on how we, as women, view and treat our bodies and health.
It got me thinking.
Midlife women are one of the most aggressively targeted demographics in marketing. Why?
My opinion? Because we’re susceptible.
Not weak. Not naïve. Susceptible.
For decades — arguably longer — women have been fed the message that youth = value. Youth = desirability. Youth = relevance.
Desirable to whom? And for what purpose?
You already know the answer.
Sadly, we’ve fallen prey to the narrative that we must pursue the fountain of youth in order to stay relevant. We’ve been conditioned to believe that if we just find the right skincare, collagen powder, supplement stack, biohack, hormone protocol, or magical serum from the Swiss Alps, we can delay the inevitable. (And why, exactly is the “inevitable” a bad thing? I mean, think about the alternative. Though if someone invents a cream that eliminates peri/menopause mood swings we might need to talk).
Most of us are just conditioned to believe that staying youthful is what we want. And trust me, I’m not exempt from this conditioning. None of us are.
But do we ever pause to ask: Why do I want this? Who benefits from me wanting this?
A few days ago, I participated in a single-day ‘noticing’ exercise created by my mentor. The assignment was simple: Pay attention to what influences you to do, buy, try, research, or change something.
She called it “Track the Noise.”
Brilliant, right?
I like to think I’m fairly self-aware. I consider myself intentional about the choices I make around health and lifestyle. But this exercise sharpened something for me.
I noticed how often language like “revitalize,” “longevity,” “anti-aging,” “optimal,” “hormone chaos,” and “better you” catches my attention.
On the surface, those phrases sound empowering. Beneath the surface, they whisper something else:
You shouldn’t age. Why?
Age = Decline.
Youth = Value.
That somehow, getting older (for women) means the end of being seen, heard, and valued. And that message doesn’t just exist in marketing. It’s present in everyday life, in the way we’re treated by others (mostly the more youthful among us — and honestly, mostly men). I mean, how many of you have felt dismissed, diminished, or (dare I say) invisible since hitting a certain age bracket?
(Yes, I’m raising my hand over here ).
I’ve heard this story countless times from women. Rarely from men. That doesn’t mean it never happens to men — but it doesn’t seem to shape their cultural narrative in quite the same way.
That lived experience — the subtle sidelining — is what makes us more responsive to the noise.
You may be wondering what I noticed during the exercise I mentioned above. On that day, and on each day since, my awareness has become heightened to the noise (or what I call things that make you go hmmm — you know, like that song from a lifetime ago) — and I’m not just referring to what I see on social media, because if I’m being honest I don’t spend a lot of time there. The thing I have become increasingly aware of is that I pay more attention to other women — influencers, “experts,” family, friends, even strangers — than I do to men.
And that’s the part that surprised me most.
I watch how they present themselves, carry themselves (do they project confidence or seem to shrink?). I listen to what they say with genuine interest, as long as they seem genuine. When they don’t, I tune out.
When somebody I truly respect (again — family, friend, influencer, or expert) suggests or recommends something (a product, a practice, or a biohack), I am likely to at least research it further if I don’t jump straight in.
When I see somebody whose “look” represents what I aspire to, I also am led to some sort of action, be it do/buy/try/research, or change.
So in short, I noticed that I’m vulnerable and suggestible.
That’s what makes me go hmmm.
No judgement, no shame. Simple awareness. It doesn’t make me foolish — it makes me human. The difference now is that I’m watching it happen in real time. And that’s powerful.
So I’m curious — what makes you go hmm?
What messaging catches your attention? What phrases spark action? What images make you question yourself? What recommendations send you down a research rabbit hole at 9:30 p.m. when you meant to be reading fiction? Who/where are they coming from?
Maybe we explore it together.
Because the goal isn’t to eliminate the noise.
It’s to recognize it — so it doesn’t quietly run the show.




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