Her Shift with Anna Pearce-Roberts

I’ve been quiet for a while. Longer than I planned, longer than I’m comfortable with — and this is me finally being able to explain why.

The short version: perimenopause. The longer version is what this post is about.

I Thought I Knew What Was Coming

I have PMDD. I know hormones. I’ve built a whole life around understanding my cycle, working with it, surviving it. So when people mentioned menopause, I thought — okay, hot flushes, periods stop, get on with it. I was not prepared.

From around 42, things started to shift gradually. Hotter at night. Knees not quite right. Getting up off the floor a bit harder than it used to be. Nothing I couldn’t explain away. And then, over the last two years — properly unravel.

What It Actually Felt Like

I’m going to list what I went through because I think someone needs to read this in plain language:

Crushing fatigue. Not tiredness. Fatigue. The kind where getting up from a chair takes effort. Where doing a full makeup job — something I’ve done hundreds of times — would leave me needing three days to recover.

Debilitating anxiety. I want to be clear about this because I didn’t understand anxiety before I felt this. It’s like the feeling you get when you’re in a waiting room and someone you love is ill and you don’t know the outcome — that full-body, pacing, heart-racing dread. Now imagine that is just on. All the time. For over a year. With no let-up.

Insomnia. Two hours of broken sleep, most nights. Staring at the ceiling at 3am, completely exhausted, completely unable to switch off.

Needing to wee up to 30 times a night. I’m not exaggerating. I didn’t know this was a symptom. It’s a symptom.

Executive dysfunction. Missing appointments. Moving things I shouldn’t have had to move. Unable to execute the most basic tasks because I’d get distracted ten times before I finished them.

Vulvovaginal atrophy. I’m going to say it plainly because nobody does: your body stops feeling like yours. Everything becomes uncomfortable. Underwear hurts. You feel dried out and unlike yourself in a way that goes way beyond physical.

Near total loss of libido. Not because anything was wrong in my relationship. Because there was simply nothing there. That spark, that sense of yourself as a sexual person — gone.

Weight gain, hair loss, brain fog, social withdrawal. All of it. All at once. For the better part of two years.

The Things I Tried

I tried antidepressants. They took the edge off slightly. I tried a couple of glasses of wine in the evening — that made everything worse. I noticed I was spending a little money on slots when I was match betting and had enough self-awareness to stop before it became a problem. I went to do wedding makeup jobs on zero sleep and would then drive to the gym’s spa afterwards just to collapse on a hot bed and finally, finally rest — only to be woken up by a staff member checking I was still alive.

That is what I was doing to get five minutes of peace. That is how bad it got.

What Finally Helped

I eventually got seen at a hormonal clinic on the NHS. The nurse there was the first person in a long time who didn’t tell me I was too young, that my bloods were normal, that maybe I should try magnesium. She just listened, said “of course,” and got me sorted.

I had the Mirena coil fitted in April for progesterone. Three weeks ago I started Estrogel — two pumps, rubbed into my thighs each morning. Things are still up and down. But in the last few weeks I’ve had periods of feeling like myself. I’ve done eight-hour stretches of proper work. The anxiety is still there sometimes, but there are moments — actual moments — where it isn’t.

That alone feels like a miracle.

What I Want You To Take From This

If you are going through this: you are not weak. The shame, the mum guilt, the wondering why you can’t just push through — none of that is yours to carry.

If anyone else in your life was experiencing what you’re experiencing, you would tell them to push for help. Do the same for yourself. Keep going back. Kick up a fuss. Say: this is not an acceptable way to live.

You don’t get a medal for suffering through it quietly. I know. I tried.

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Her Shift is back — and we’ve got a lot to talk about. Follow on Apple Podcasts or Spotify and come find me on Instagram @her.shift.