My name is Amy, and as I approach my 40th birthday in 2026, it feels impossible not to reflect on just how much my life — and my body — has changed over the past decade. To say that my thirties have been a wild ride would be a complete understatement. I am a Wife, A Mum and I have a background as Clinical Director in Mental Health and a Life Coach.

At 35, after years of repeatedly visiting my GP and feeling unheard, I was diagnosed with stage IV endometriosis. I had been living with severe, debilitating symptoms for a long time, yet answers were slow to come. When I finally saw a consultant gynaecologist, I was told that the best option for me was a full hysterectomy — that it would effectively “solve” the problem.

Five years on, I still hold many questions. Many what ifs. What I do know is that I had to educate myself beyond anything I could have imagined, simply to survive and make sense of what was happening to my body.

I was advised that a hysterectomy would likely send me into menopause — but the reality is that very few women in their mid-thirties are prepared for that conversation. I certainly wasn’t. I entered surgical menopause naively, without understanding what it truly meant, and the experience that followed felt like falling off a cliff.

Navigating surgical menopause over the last five years has often felt like moving through thick treacle or honey — heavy, slow, and exhausting. There have been deep lows, occasional stretches where I felt steady, and long periods of simply trying to keep my head above water. Only recently, after years of learning, trial and reflection, have I truly begun to understand what supports me and what helps keep me balanced.

What became clear very early on was how little support existed — especially for younger women experiencing surgical menopause. That absence stayed with me. It’s why I care so deeply about guiding and supporting others who are searching for understanding, reassurance and practical help.

No one should have to navigate this alone. And no one should have to fight so hard just to be believed.

My name is Beckie. I am a wife, a mum, and a woman in my forties. I also have a professional background as a safeguarding lead — a role that requires constant awareness, emotional resilience and the ability to hold many responsibilities at once.

When perimenopause arrived, it hit me like a ton of bricks — and even that doesn’t quite capture the depth of how disorienting it felt. One moment I was managing family life, work and the everyday demands placed on me; the next, I felt as though my body and mind were no longer working in the way they once had.

Perimenopause didn’t just bring physical changes. It brought mental and emotional challenges that were harder to recognise, harder to explain, and often harder to admit. There were days of deep fatigue, heightened anxiety, emotional overwhelm and moments where I questioned my confidence, my capability and even my sense of self.

As someone used to supporting others, I found it incredibly difficult to acknowledge how much I was struggling. Like so many women, I felt pressure to keep going — to keep juggling the plates, to remain dependable, to push through — even when everything felt heavier and more fragile than before.

I am still navigating this journey. Perimenopause is not something that arrives and passes neatly; it is ongoing, unpredictable and deeply personal. What I have learned is that the mental load can be just as challenging as the physical symptoms — and that both deserve understanding, compassion and proper support.

This experience has shown me how isolating this stage of life can feel, especially when you are expected to function as though nothing has changed. It has also strengthened my belief that women need spaces where they can speak honestly, be believed, and receive support without judgement.