When my mum was going through menopause, I thought she was being difficult. She was irritable, often sad and seemed to have lost interest in things she once loved. I was a hot-headed teenager, difficult myself, and assumed some of her unhappiness must have been my fault. Nobody explained what was happening to her body and she didn’t talk about it. Looking back, I wish she had.

Now I wonder how much she struggled and whether she ever felt able to ask for help. Menopause was something she endured quietly. Today, I can barely open social media without someone recommending a supplement, hormone-balancing diet or miracle ingredient promising to restore my younger self. The promise is that I can improve my sleep, flatten my stomach and rediscover my energy with the right morning routine, all before getting Cyrus ready for school. Marvellous.

I became a new mum at 40, so I was already familiar with a changing body. Then perimenopause arrived with unpredictable periods, disturbed sleep and energy levels that didn’t align with my plans. On a good day, I could manage work, being a mum and a demanding gym session. After a poor night’s sleep, remembering why I’d walked into the kitchen felt like an achievement.

I’ve spent my professional life working with words and deadlines, so struggling to concentrate has been unsettling. I’ve written about using AI to help with everyday tasks in midlife, but managing the consequences doesn’t explain what is causing them.

The NHS guide to perimenopause symptoms includes changes to periods, sleep and concentration. That doesn’t mean every new symptom is hormonal, and persistent or disruptive changes are worth discussing with a GP.

When your body feels unfamiliar, doing something about it gives reassurance. I’ve tried lemon water, bone broth and wheatgrass juice, not all together, of course. I’ve even added apple cider vinegar to my gym water bottle, although my dentist would probably have something to say about that.

Trying something and feeling better afterwards can be persuasive when you’re the person drinking it, even when you can’t tell what caused the change.

I also tried Innopure’s Perimenopause & Menopause Complex, which was gifted for review. The company describes it as a UK-made, vegan, gluten-free formula without fillers or binders. It lists vitamins and botanicals including red clover, sage, maca and wild yam, with 60 capsules and a suggested serving of one capsule daily.

I noticed a slight improvement in how I felt while taking it, but nothing dramatic. My symptoms seemed more manageable, although they fluctuate and I can’t establish whether the supplement was responsible.

I liked the convenience and would consider trying it again if a pharmacist or GP confirmed the ingredients were suitable alongside anything else I was taking. I wouldn’t expect miracles, and my experience isn’t evidence that it treats perimenopause.

I love strength training, Zumba and combat-style classes. Give me loud music and a challenging workout and I’m happy, although I’ve learned to leave room for recovery too. In my five-minute menopause workouts experiment, I explored how shorter sessions could fit into busy days. Exercise remains something I enjoy, but it can’t resolve every symptom.

There is also the effect on relationships and sexual confidence, which can be harder to bring up than a broken night’s sleep. After years of juggling everybody else’s expectations, I like the idea of midlife involving a better understanding of what we want. Women should be able to discuss discomfort or changes in desire without embarrassment.

The NHS guide to menopause treatment explains options including HRT and non-hormonal treatments. It also discusses vaginal symptoms and low libido. Those are conversations we can have with a clinician, without first working through an expensive selection of wellness products.

I can’t know how much of my mum’s sadness was hormonal, because she had worries and responsibilities of her own. I’ve written about the questions I still want to ask my mum, and menopause is one conversation I wish we’d had.

Now I’m raising a son, I want him to know that women’s health isn’t embarrassing. A woman struggling to concentrate isn’t necessarily careless, and someone experiencing exhaustion isn’t lazy. I want to keep lifting weights, dancing to Persian music and embarrassing Cyrus. I’d also quite like to remember why I went upstairs.

Talking more openly gives us a chance to understand each other better, provided we leave space for conversations that don’t end with a purchase. I think my mum would have appreciated that.