Mood dips as messages, not malfunctions

I have a wild working theory: the flatness, fog and sadness many of us feel in perimenopause are often proportional to the distance between our daily life and our original inner compass. In adolescence, we touched an unedited truth—what lit us up, what we would have marched for, the work that felt like play. Perimenopause turns up the volume on anything out of alignment, not to shame us, but to shepherd us home.

The 14–21 imprint and the drift

Those years (roughly 14–21) stamp a deep pattern of meaning. Then, as adulthood unfolds, we serve everyone: children, partners, employers, ageing parents, communities. Beautiful—and costly when we disappear in the process. Many of us reach midlife achievements with a quiet ache: “Where did I go?” The body often speaks first: sleep goes ragged, moods flatten, focus scatters. Resistance can feel noble (“I’ll push through”), yet it keeps us orbiting someone else’s sun.

Crossing the portal: from resistance to self-loyalty

When I finally surrendered to what my body was asking—rest, honesty, creative risk—the sensations changed. The surges felt like birth pain: intense, purposeful, directional. This passage isn’t about burning bridges; it’s about building truer ones. Try this cadence:

• Remember: What did 16-year-old you know for sure? Make a list of the dreams, causes and crafts that made time disappear.

• Reveal: Where are you self-betraying to keep the peace? Name one place you’re done with self-corruption.

• Re-choose: Make a tiny, concrete pivot today—send the email, block 30 minutes for your project, say no cleanly.

As these micro-acts stack, equilibrium returns. You haven’t lost your why. It’s been waiting in the wings, patient as sunrise.

Much love,

Sharonah x