Melani Sanders is over it.
She’s over meticulously applying makeup before leaving the house or, even, having to wear a bra when running errands. She’s over wasting time plucking chin hairs, searching for brain fog-induced lost reading glasses and — most of all — withholding her opinions so as not to offend others.
As a 45-year-old perimenopausal woman, Sanders is no longer searching for outside validation and is over people-pleasing.
The dedication page in her new book sums it up best: “To the a— who told me I had a “computer box booty.”
Who is this dude, and is Sanders worried about offending him?
She doesn’t care.
Author, Melani Sanders, in an outfit she typically wears in her social media videos.
(Surej Kalathil Sunman Media)
That’s Sanders’ mantra in life right now. Last year, the West Palm Beach, Fla.-based mother of three founded the We Do Not Care Club, an online “sisterhood” into the millions of perimenopausal, menopausal and post-menopausal women “who are putting the world on notice that we simply do not care much anymore.” Sanders’ social media videos feature her looking disheveled — in a bathrobe and reading glasses, for example, with additional pairs of reading glasses hanging from her lapels — while rattling off members’ comments about what they do not care about anymore.
“We do not care if we still wear skinny jeans — they stretch and they’re comfortable,” she reads, deadpan. “We do not care if the towels don’t match in our house — you got a rag and you got a towel, use it accordingly.”
Sanders’ online community of fed up women grew rapidly. She announced the club in May 2025, and it has more than 3 million members internationally; celebrity supporters include Ashley Judd, Sharon Stone and Halle Berry. It’s a welcoming, if unexpected, space where women “can finally exhale,” as Sanders puts it. The rallying cry? “We do not give a f—ing s— what anyone thinks of us anymore.”
That’s also the message of Sanders’ new book, “The Official We Do Not Care Club Handbook: A Hot-Mess Guide for Women in Perimenopause, Menopause, and Beyond Who Are Over It.” The book is part self-help book, with facts about the perimenopause and menopause transition; part memoir; part practical workbook with tools and resources; and part humor book, brimming with Sanders’ raw and authentic comedic style. (It includes a membership card for new club inductees and cutout-able patches with slogans like “lubricated and horny” or “speaking your truth.”)
We caught up with Sanders while she was in New York to promote her book and admittedly “overstimulated from all the horns,” she said. But she just. Did. Not. Care.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
The We Do Not Care Club came about after you had a meltdown in a supermarket parking lot. Tell us about that.
I was in the parking lot of Whole Foods. I needed Ashwagandha — that was my holy grail at the time for my perimenopause journey, and I was out of it. I got back in my car and looked at myself in the rear view mirror. I had on a sports bra that was shifted to one side. My hair was extremely unstructured. I had a hat on and socks mismatched — I was a real hot mess. Nothing added up. But in that moment, I realized that I just didn’t care much anymore. I just said, “Melanie, you have to take the pressure off, girlfriend. It’s time to stop caring so much.” I decided to press the record button and see if anyone wanted to join me in starting a club called the We Do Not Care Club. I released the video and drove home, which took about 20 minutes, and by the time I got home it had [gone viral].
You got hundreds of thousands of new followers, internationally, within 24 hours. Why do you think the post resonated so greatly at that moment?
I had to dissect that because it was kind of unreal. Like, what is it about country, old Melanie that hit record and asked about a little club that she thought maybe 20 or 30 women would want to join? Over the summer, I studied this and did more videos and I listened. It was the relatability. It was the understanding. It was just letting my guard down and just saying it out loud. Speaking my truth. Also, for many women, we have this silent pressure to get it all done. But we’re at capacity. In the book, I talk about how, once I was in perimenopause, I didn’t want to have sex with my husband. I didn’t want to see my kids — like, everyone just close the door! And that’s kind of shameful, you know? It’s not like I don’t love my family. I really do. But I can’t do it all anymore. And I just think that resonated with a lot of sisters throughout the world. It was like: Now is the time for us to just explode and I think we all did it at once.
“The Official We Do Not Care Club Handbook.”
(William Morrow)
You entered perimenopause (or “Miss Peri,” as you call it) at age 44, after a partial hysterectomy. How did your life change after that?
I did not expect it. I knew that I had fibroids and I was uncomfortable because of that. So when I had the hysterectomy, I was expecting to now be a whole person again afterwards. But I just went into this dark place. It was like you’re fighting against yourself to just be normal again. And your body is changing in so many ways. For me, that was the hot flashes, the insomnia, the depression, the rage. My joints were really, really stiff all of a sudden. It’s like, ‘wait a minute, how and why?!!’ And [I got] frozen shoulder. Frozen shoulder was how I discovered I was in perimenopause because I was not told by my doctor who performed my hysterectomy that this could happen. And I didn’t know where to turn or where to go because I was just being told everything was normal. I was so frustrated with the process, the lack of education, the lack of resources. The lack of compassion, I would even say.
Your book and social media videos are so funny. Do you have a comedy background?
I don’t, and I get asked that often. I just say what’s on my mind and sometimes, I guess, it comes out funny — but I’m not trying. The [wearing multiple pairs of] glasses: I do that because, with perimenopause, my eyesight went bad really quickly. I was out in public one day and I could not read. I was just traumatized. So every time I would see glasses, I would just put them on me because I don’t want to get stuck without them. That neck pillow, when I got frozen shoulder, I was using it a lot. Then one day when I hit record, I had the neck pillow on and I just didn’t care. And it stuck.
You’ve appeared on TV, been featured in publications, and People magazine named you creator of the year for 2025. What has this sudden fame been like for you?
It’s surreal. I have not completely processed it yet. It’s a lot to take in. I’m just an everyday woman that decided to press record and accidentally started a movement. Impostor syndrome is there from time to time. But I’m just trying my best to accept everything that’s going on — and keep just being Melani.
Has the overwhelming response from new members fueled your own resolve to be true to yourself or otherwise changed you personally?
It absolutely has. It’s the strength that the sisterhood gives me. Because I’m very scared. You know, the book is coming out. And the tour is sold out in several cities. This is all within an eight-month span. It’s a lot. But when everyone is saying they love you, and when you have a group of women that understands you and feels the way that you feel, absolutely, there’s strength in numbers. Now I don’t care about making mistakes.
You live in a very male household. What do your sons and husband think of all this?
Once I decided that I didn’t care anymore, I just expected for them to kind of allow things just to go to hell around the house — but it was quite the opposite. All three of my sons and my husband, they’re just very supportive. Because it was very sad for me. It was very hard to not want to watch movies or anything and just be by myself. But they rose to the occasion and they make sure things are done when they’re home. They really show how they love their mom during this time.
How can other men become allies to the women they love during the menopause transition?
Just either get out of our way or, you know, just kind of read the room! Because we don’t know who we are from day to day. We don’t know what’s gonna ache. We don’t know what’s going to hurt or what’s going to itch or what’s going to be dry. And if it’s an off day, then darling, it’s just an off day — and it’s OK.
What are some things that you do still care about greatly?
I care about sisterhood. Because when women bind together, it’s a game changer. We will move mountains. I just think that, in this world, there’s so much pressure, so much overstimulation. So I care about being able to live authentically. To feel free. To be OK with who you are. Within WDNC, the two things that I definitely want to convey that I care about is: that you are enough. And you are not alone. And of course I love my kids. I love my family immensely.
Where does the WDNC go from here? What’s the future?
Retreats. That is definitely a dream. To have a weekend retreat where women can come and the only thing that you need to bring is some clean underwear and some pantyliners! (You can’t have a good, hard laugh or a good sneeze or a good cough without pissing your pants.) No makeup, no nothing, just come and be free. I want three different rooms. One will be the rage room and you’ll go in there and just throw stuff around and scream and punch, whatever you want. Then a quiet room. No talking, no nothing, just silence. And the last room will be the “Let that s— go room.” That’s where we’ll put everything that we have in us, that we’re holding onto that’s keeping us from living a blissful and peaceful life, and write it down and let it go. I just want to touch sisters and let them know it is OK. We are OK. I have my s— I go through. You have your s— you go through. It’s OK. Let’s live.
This story originally appeared on LA Times
