My relationship with my husband before and after I found out I had PMDD

By Oksana George

One of my favorite photos of me and my hubby:)

Introduction

Love isn’t exactly what you see in the movies (trust me, I wish it was). It’s not all romantic music, perfect timing, and people magically knowing what the other needs. In real life? Relationships are work. Like, “sweatpants and mood swings at 2 a.m.” kind of work. It takes sacrifice, effort, trust, and a whole lot of commitment — especially when life throws in an emotional rollercoaster you didn’t ask for (looking at you, PMDD).

My husband and I have been through it all — and I mean a lot. We didn’t always see it coming, especially not the ticking time bomb that turned up once a month. But we held on. Even in the hardest, most confusing moments, we found a way. This is the story of how we got through the storm — and how love (the real kind) looks when things get tough. My hope? That it inspires you, makes you laugh a little, and maybe helps you and your partner feel a little less alone.

Before the Diagnosis:

We were really going through it in our relationship. And to make it even more intense? We had kids. Yep — trying to juggle emotional chaos, explosive arguments, and parenting… it was a whole circus. We tried to pretend everything was fine in front of the kids (spoiler: it wasn’t). We were stuck in this endless loop of tension, tears, and silence — and honestly, the silence was sometimes the hardest part.

The Emotional Rollercoaster

Whew… this part is tough to write. But here goes. Our fights weren’t just arguments — they were explosions. Some started over nothing and turned into full-on emotional disasters. There were times one of us would say, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” It wasn’t because we didn’t love each other — it was because we were exhausted. Emotionally drained. Burnt out from the cycle of bickering, miscommunication, and feeling totally disconnected.

And I’ll be real with you: most of the time, I started the fights. Not because I wanted to. Not because I didn’t love him. But because I was miserable in me. I was insecure. I felt like he was going to give up on me any minute, and that fear turned into anger. I hated how I acted, but I couldn’t stop. My brain was running a marathon of intrusive thoughts, and I was doing everything I could just to keep myself functioning. Sex? Didn’t want it. Hugging? Nope. Touching? Absolutely not. And talking? His breathing alone was enough to make me want to scream. (Sorry babe, love you.)

The Confusion & Misunderstanding

The wildest part? Neither of us had any idea what was actually happening. I truly thought I was just broken — like something was fundamentally wrong with me. He was confused. I was confused.

And we both kept hurting each other without meaning to. We didn’t take time to stop and say, “Hey, what’s really going on here?” We didn’t listen. We didn’t reflect. We reacted. And that made everything worse. If you’re reading this and nodding your head — keep going. You’re not alone.

The Communication & Mental Breakdowns

Eventually, after the fights would die down, we’d sit in awkward silence. Or walk away. Then we’d come back together and… well, we handled it in the most toxic way possible. Either we’d make up with sex (which — let’s be honest — felt great in the moment but didn’t fix a thing), or we’d just sweep it all under the rug. “Wanna get food?” became code for “Let’s pretend that didn’t just happen.” And listen, food is magical… but emotional avoidance? Not so much. What we really needed was to sit down and talk. Deeply. Honestly. But we were both too hurt, too tired, and honestly too unsure of what we were even dealing with.

The Pattern I Didn’t See

What we didn’t realize was that this wasn’t random. It was a pattern — a cycle. A literal cycle. And then one day, mid-argument, my husband looked at me and said, “Are you about to start or something? Because this happens EVERY time you’re about to start!” Boom. That was the moment. The lightbulb. Something wasn’t just “off.” Something was happening every month. Like clockwork. And I finally started to realize… I wasn’t just moody. There was something real going on. (Enter: PMDD demon mode. Activated.)

The Toll on Intimacy & Connection

Remember how I said I didn’t want sex, hugs, or even small talk? It wasn’t because I didn’t love him. I was just so overstimulated and exhausted — from the kids, from the noise, from my own brain.

It crushed me every time he’d try to cuddle or touch my leg and I’d snap, “Stop that.” The look on his face? Hurt. Confused. And I hated that. I knew it wasn’t normal. I just didn’t know how to fix it. Coping Without Noticing So how did I cope? The most toxic way possible: I didn’t. I ignored it. Pretended I was fine. I stopped trying. I was already so tired of being me, so what was the point? I started to give up — not just on the relationship, but on myself. That’s when I knew things were really bad.

The Self-Doubt

At that point, my self-esteem wasn’t just low — it was underground. I felt like I was failing as a wife, a mom, a friend, a human being. I was convinced my husband would eventually just leave. And honestly? Sometimes I wanted to leave too. I hated thinking about divorce (even the word made me nauseous), but that fear lived rent-free in my head. And the more I spiraled, the more everything hurt — the marriage, the love, the hope. I was stuck.

After The Diagnosis Part II

After all those years (yes, years) of constant arguing, crying, miscommunication, and just plain chaos — we finally had an answer. And even though we still bicker here and there (we’re married, not magical), having a diagnosis made a huge difference. It didn’t solve everything overnight, but it gave us something we’d been missing the whole time: clarity. Once I found out what I was actually dealing with — PMDD — everything started to make sense.

Like… oh. So I wasn’t just being dramatic or sensitive or whatever else I told myself in the mirror. I had an actual condition. And getting that answer? Game. Changer. I still remember sitting in my therapist’s office and hearing her say, “Yeah, that definitely sounds like PMDD.” I’m not kidding — it felt like the weight of the last few years just fell off my shoulders. I could finally breathe. I cried. But for once, it wasn’t out of frustration — it was relief. Because deep down, I always knew something was going on. I just couldn’t name it until then.

When It Finally Clicked

After the diagnosis, everything shifted. Not instantly, but slowly and surely. I finally had proof that I wasn’t just being “too emotional” or “moody.” I had a real, legitimate reason for why I felt like a walking tornado every month. And when my doctor said that PMDD can affect your work, your relationships, and your entire quality of life — it hit me hard. Because that was exactly what had been happening.

My Husband’s Reaction

So when I told my husband, his reaction was… classic him. He lit up and said something like, “Okay, cool, so we’re gonna fix this now, right?” And I just laughed because, yeah — he wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t going to fix everything, but at least now I had a direction. It was a relief for both of us. We finally realized that the problem wasn’t each other — it was the storm between us we didn’t have a name for. For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t me vs. him. It was us vs. PMDD.

Research Mode Activated

After I got home from my psychiatrist appointment, I didn’t even finish my errands. Nope. I went straight home, grabbed my phone and laptop, and spent a solid six hours (no exaggeration) researching everything I could about PMDD. Symptoms? Check. Phases? Check. How it affects your relationships? Oh yeah, big check.

And if you’ve been reading my blog, you already know — I changed a lot about my lifestyle. Therapy, diet, daily routine, workouts, boundaries — I made it all a priority. Because now I understood what was going on. And more importantly, I knew how to take action when things started to spiral.

A Supportive Partner Makes All the Difference

My husband has been so supportive through this. We actually communicate now. (Shocking, I know.) I tell him when I’m having a good day or when a bad one is creeping in, and he knows when to lean in or when to give me space. He pretty much describes PMDD as “PMS on steroids,” and honestly? He’s not wrong.

Communication: The Upgrade

Our communication is probably the best it’s ever been. (Please knock on wood for me.) I’m able to tell him when I’m okay with being touched, when I need space, and how my mood’s doing that day. And he’s picked up on the signs — if I’m not up early like usual, he already knows something’s off. We don’t do all the overly-romantic stuff. That’s just not us. He’s more of a logical guy — he wants honesty, directness, and a plan. So that’s what we do: we talk, we check in, and we adjust. When I feel off, I tell him. When I’m in the luteal phase, I give him a heads-up. He listens. He really sees me now — and that means the world.

The Healing Process

Now let me be real — healing didn’t happen overnight. It took time, patience, grace, and a whole lot of growing pains. We still have moments, of course, but they’re not as intense as they used to be.

And when things get tense now? We step away. We cool off. And then we come back and talk it out like two people who actually like each other. (Imagine that!) We also show love in little ways now. I make him food (I love doing that), help with the kids more, and sometimes rub his back (okay, still working on that one). And he gives me space to work out, hang with friends, rest, and just be me — without guilt. That’s love.

Rebuilding Intimacy

We’re slowly rebuilding that part too — you know, the physical connection. We’ve learned how to talk openly about when it’s a good time and when it’s a “please don’t touch me” day. And it’s not just about sex. It’s the cuddling, the joking, the watching a movie together after the kids go to bed. Alone time matters. We try to carve that out at least once a week now, and it makes a huge difference.

Looking Back Now

Looking back, we’ve come a long way. Therapy, patience, better communication — all of it changed how we show up for each other. I used to shut down or yell. Now, I stay calm and speak clearly. That alone is progress.

What I appreciate most about my husband? He stayed. Through the worst of it, he never left. And now, we both show up for each other. Before, it was one-sided. But now? I give him love too. And if you’re reading this, babe — thank you. I love you, and I appreciate you more than you know.

If You’re Going Through This…

If you and your partner are going through something like we did, I hope this gives you hope. You’re not alone. And if you were nodding your head the whole time reading this? Yeah, same. I’ve been there. To all the ladies struggling with PMDD — please know there is hope. There is healing. And if you ever need someone to talk to, hit the contact button below. I’m here to support you, always. Thanks for reading — with love (as always), – Oksana

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