You don’t quite recognise yourself anymore. You used to pride yourself on being the capable, organised one - the person who remembered everything and kept things moving. Now you find yourself forgetting things, feeling overwhelmed and losing patience with the people you love. Something that used to be a piece of cake suddenly feels like too much.
Perhaps it goes a little deeper. You feel angry with everyone around you, but also with yourself. A comment or a look gets under your skin in a way it never used to. And the most unsettling part? You don’t understand why you feel so unlike yourself.
Then the questions begin. Why can’t I cope the way I used to? Why am I so forgetful? What has happened to me? For some women, the menopause transition brings not only changes in how they feel, but questions about who they are. That is the part I want to make space for here.
When being the capable one is part of who you are
For those of us who take pride in being organised, there is often a whole world of planning happening quietly in the background. The school uniforms are ready the night before. The food shopping is planned for the week ahead. Birthday gifts are bought and wrapped, holiday clubs are booked and nights out are organised. We are the ones who get things done.
So when familiar tasks start to feel harder, it can come as a real shock. It is not just about forgetting something on the shopping list. It can unsettle the perception we have had of ourselves: I am dependable. I am on top of things. I can cope. When that confidence wobbles, we may find ourselves questioning far more than our memory.
“The change” feels like an old-fashioned phrase to me. Yet it does capture something about this transition. There can be a shift in how we experience ourselves, not just in how we feel from one day to the next. And that deserves attention, rather than being brushed aside as something we should simply get on with.
Even while putting these thoughts into words, I found myself losing the thread of what I wanted to say next. There is something very real about trying to describe an experience while you are right in the middle of it.
Turning the struggle against ourselves
It can be easy to turn that uncertainty inward. Instead of creating space for support and understanding, we blame ourselves. Not productive enough. Not present enough. Too angry. Too sensitive. We take something that feels difficult and make it evidence that we are failing.
But struggling does not make you a failure. Perhaps the more useful question is not, “What’s wrong with me?” but, “What am I going through, and what do I need?” That change in how we speak to ourselves may sound small, but it opens up room for curiosity and compassion where there was only criticism.
What therapy can offer during menopause
I believe therapy can be helpful here because it offers space to explore what this transition means to you. Not just which symptoms you are experiencing, but what feels different in your relationships, your confidence and your sense of yourself. Counselling can support that broader conversation, rather than assuming menopause explains everything you are feeling.
It can be a place to say the things you might otherwise edit out: “I feel angry.” “I miss how I used to feel.” “I’m exhausted by being the one who holds everything together.” You do not have to arrive with a tidy explanation or put a positive spin on your experience. Sometimes the first thing you need is room to hear yourself think.
That conversation might include the expectations you place on yourself, what you need from the people around you, or whether the role of “the capable one” still leaves enough room for your own needs. The aim need not be to become better at carrying everything. It might be to question why you are carrying so much in the first place.
Therapy is not a replacement for medical care, and asking for emotional support does not mean your symptoms are “all in your head”. Menopause-specific cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) is one recognised option for certain associated symptoms, including sleep difficulties, hot flushes and depressive symptoms, and may be offered alongside other treatment. A GP or another qualified healthcare professional can help you explore symptoms and treatment options, including hormone replacement therapy (HRT), where appropriate.
There should be no competition over who manages this transition “best”, and no judgement about seeking support. Nor should we assume every change in mood or concentration is caused by menopause. If symptoms are new, persistent or affecting your day-to-day life, they deserve a conversation with a healthcare professional.
Making room for loss - and possibility
For some women, this transition carries sorrow: a sense of loss for the way things were, or for a version of themselves they felt comfortable with. I think it matters that there is space to voice that loss, as well as the anger and uncertainty that may come with it. We do not have to hurry past those feelings towards a more acceptable story.
At the same time, I know women who welcome menopause and the new chapter it represents. It does not have to be an entirely negative or gloomy experience. Relief and sadness can sit alongside each other. So can frustration and possibility. There is no single way you are supposed to feel.
Beyond the marketing: an honest conversation
Menopause seems to be everywhere now. Sometimes it feels as though even the shampoo needs a menopause label. I find parts of that marketing a little excessive. But putting the products aside, I welcome the greater willingness to talk about something that has too often been kept quiet.
We do not have to be embarrassed about this experience or hide it. There can be a conversation that goes beyond products, symptoms and advice - a conversation about what it actually feels like to be you, in this part of your life.
Whether we are talking about menopause, mental health, grief or parenthood, I keep coming back to the value of honest conversations. There is something comforting about hearing someone describe a familiar experience and thinking, “Oh. It’s not just me.” It does not have to become a comparison or a competition over who has it harder, or who is coping better.
Sometimes there is humour in that recognition - even a little dark humour. Sometimes there is simply the relief of being heard. Neither makes the difficult parts disappear, but there can be solace in knowing you do not have to make sense of them alone.
You do not need to wait until everything feels unmanageable to ask for support. Therapy can be a space to begin that conversation: to explore what is changing, say what feels hard and consider what you need now.
You deserve compassion while you find your way through this - not another reason to be hard on yourself.