They Should Have Told Us

They didn't get a manual. So they wrote one - over mimosas.

Brie thought she was losing her mind, one grocery-store memory lapse and one humiliating ER visit at a time - until a phone call with her oldest friend cracked the whole thing open. Turns out nobody had told either of them. Not their mothers, not their doctors, not one single friend who'd already been through it and just... never mentioned it.

So Brie did the only reasonable thing: she started a standing Sunday brunch, and told every woman she knew to show up and say the quiet part out loud. What started as one phone call became a table full of women finding out in real time that the thing they thought was uniquely, privately wrong with them had a name, a reason, and an entire table of people who already knew.

Fifty stories. Fifty symptoms nobody warned them about - brain fog, hot flashes, rage, dry humor, and everything in between - told the way women actually tell them: loud, messy, over-caffeinated, and very, very funny.

They Should Have Told Us is a laugh-until-you-cry anthology about the friendships that get you through the parts of getting older nobody prepares you for, and the specific relief of finally hearing someone else say, Wait, that happens to you too?

Pull up a chair. The mimosas are bottomless, and so is the company.