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The Menopausal Carousel

 


The Menopausal Carousel

Storm Outside, Storm Inside — and Still Showing Up

It’s raining today. Not “raining” raining — more like that British biblical nonsense where it feels personal. And honestly, the weather is matching my insides. My voice is hoarse from singing at the festival yesterday, my body aches in that “something’s coming” way, and the menopausal yo‑yo is doing its usual trick of pretending I still have a cycle even though I’m not supposed to.

That’s the thing no one tells you: menopause doesn’t just stop the cycle — it scrambles the pattern. And when you’re neurodiverse, pattern is everything. So when the pattern goes, the ground goes.

Yesterday was brilliant — singing to songs I didn’t know, dancing, laughing, being out in the world again. But I got cold. Really cold. And that’s not like me. I can do 40 miles of spinning a week and feel absolutely fine, but eight hours of walking, talking, and festival‑ing has knocked me sideways. That’s the menopausal immune system for you: one minute strong, the next minute susceptible, and you never know which version you’re waking up with.

Today I’m tired, achy, foggy, and trying not to catastrophize. Is it just the cold? Is it the storm brewing inside? Is it the yo‑yo? Probably all of it.

The Outfit That Matches the Mood

I’ve basically had to pull my winter wardrobe back out. In June. In England. Of course.

  • Barrel‑leg M&S jeans — £30 and still one of the best things they’ve ever made.

  • White Primark vest — better fit than the M&S support ones, and I’m loyal to what works.

  • Hunter x Represent wellies — found in the boot of the car , lucky.

  • Jones Road cheek tint on my lips — the quickest fix for a tired woman.

  • Glossier glow — a Midult podcast recommendation, winter glow.

  • The Giving Keys necklace — I’ve had mine for years. I loved the concept then and still do now.

I even put the heating on for ten minutes this morning just to dry yesterday’s shower towel. That’s where we’re at.

The Anchor Metaphor

I’m wearing my anchor earrings today. They mean a lot. Not because I’m always grounded — I’m not. But because I’m an anchor for other people. A steady point in their storm.

Anchors can hold you steady or drag you down, but in my world, anchor means level, solid, here. And even when I wobble, I’m still that for people.

The Bigger Story

This post isn’t really about the outfit. It’s about showing up.

I wasn’t feeling great yesterday, but I went to the festival anyway. I put myself out there. I tried something new. I let myself be part of the world again — even if it was just locally. And I had the best day.

This whole menopausal‑ND chapter has rocked me in ways I didn’t expect. I’m a confident person, but this has shaken the foundations. If it’s rocked me, it’s rocked so many women my age — especially the ones juggling invisible symptoms, invisible dips, invisible storms.

But I’m learning to live with the new rhythm. To spot the patterns even when they shift. To show up even when I’m not sure which version of me is arriving.

Today I’m cold, tired, hoarse, and wrapped in a winter coat in June. But I’m here. And that counts.


Context Art - The giving Key https://www.thegivingkeys.com/collections/the-giving-keys-x-atticus-collection

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