I don’t even know where to start. Maybe with the tears that keep threatening to spill over, the ones I keep swallowing back because there’s just no time to fall apart. Or maybe with the weight in my chest that feels like a thousand unseen hands pressing down, whispering, “Too much. Too much.”
Because that’s what it is right now.
Too much.
Too many expectations, too many responsibilities, too many decisions that need to be made, too many people needing something from me. And yet, I feel like I have so little to give. My cup isn’t just empty—it feels cracked, leaking, no matter how much I try to refill it.
And then, there’s her. The woman I used to be. The one who could hold it all, who could run on adrenaline and passion, who could juggle and fix and create without falling into exhaustion. I miss her. And yet, I know she’s gone.
Because menopause has arrived like a storm I wasn’t ready for. The brain fog, the emotions that rise like tidal waves, the way my body aches in places I never paid attention to before. One moment, I’m fine. The next, I’m deeply sad. Or crying. Or feeling like I want to run away from everything just to hear myself think … oh the polarity because.. I love my life!!
And then, family. My greatest love and my greatest activation. The guilt of not being present enough with my grandchildren, of not feeling seen or important by my children, of not having the capacity to be everything to everyone . No-one can see the war inside me. How do you explain the kind of tired that lives in your bones? The kind of overwhelm that makes even small decisions feel impossible?
I don’t have a neat little bow to tie this up with. No pretty, empowered ending. Just this moment, this truth, this surrender.
I see you, if you’re here too. If you’re drowning in responsibilities, if your body is changing faster than your heart can keep up, if the weight of everything feels too much to bear.
I don’t have the answers. But I do know this: We are not alone.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for today.
Trace xXx
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