We often talk about the personal impact of menopause.

The hot flushes.
The sleepless nights.
The brain fog.

But what about the professional impact?  Trust me, if bloody huge!

That part we rarely say out loud, especially not in leadership spaces, boardrooms, or in front of younger women watching us.

Because heaven forbid they realise what might be coming... or worse, that we’re struggling.

Well, here’s what it took from me and what I had to fight to get back.

Mental Sharpness

I used to command a room.  No notes needed. No hesitation.

Then it started. The creeping fog.  I would be mid-presentation, literally mid-sentence and my entire train of thought would disappear. Gone. Puff of smoke!

I’d be standing there thinking, why is that slide even up there? I couldn’t remember what I was about to say about it. 

You think wing it, Lisa, but the words wouldn’t come. I could see the room waiting... and me, grinning like an idiot, pretending I was taking a ‘strategic pause.’ Right.

It was terrifying. And humiliating and I used to try my best to cover it with humour.  Humour was my “get out of jail free card”.  Though let me tell you, even humour can’t save you when your mind’s doing the bloody Hokey Cokey mid-presentation!

I started second-guessing the simplest points and the sharpness I was known for started to wobble, badly.

Reliability & Memory

I prided myself on being a rock, a safe pair of hands. The one who never dropped the ball, and then...

I began writing everything down twice, and triple-checking tasks. Yet still, the damn things would slip through the cracks and I’d be so pissed at myself afterwards for not being “strong enough” in conversations, debates etc., where I needed to be influential.  I needed the extra staff, the budget, the pivot on a strategy, whatever it was, I always felt like I didn’t get my points across well, yet I was still doing well.  Which tells you something, even operating at half capacity, many of us are still bloody good at what we do.

But worse than that, I no longer trusted my own brain. The very thing that had built my career now felt like quicksand.  I would read a page of a document, turn to the next, and have no idea what I’d just read.  Re-read. Again. And again.

It was like my brain was buffering on dial-up (if you know you know) while the rest of the company was on fibre broadband.

And vocabulary? Oh, don’t get me started.  I’ve never claimed to be a grammar queen, but I had a decent vocabulary before menopause.

All of a sudden words would vanish mid-conversation. I still struggle with that and can picture the word, but can’t get it.

Executive Presence

I started showing up smaller.  Less certain. Less visible.

I could feel it and worse, so could the people around me. I stopped speaking up in rooms where I used to lead. I started passing opportunities to others, not because I couldn’t do them, but because the extra effort required just to keep my head above water was already exhausting.

I didn’t feel capable anymore. And once that starts, it’s a slippery slope.

Decision-Making Clarity

This one still makes me laugh. And cry.  I used to move fast, trust my gut, make strong, smart calls.

Menopause-era me? I’d make a decision... and five minutes later think, why on earth did I do that?  Or worse, who even asked me to make that decision?

I’d second-guess everything and analysis paralysis was my world for a while. I was expert at turning simple choices into mental marathons.

Even choosing a sandwich for lunch became a ridiculous ordeal. Do I want chicken? Or tuna? Am I meant to be off bread? I’ve read 17 conflicting articles about that this week...

And yes, I know that sounds absurd, but it’s the reality.  Stupid shit I could remember, but the stuff that my career needed…?

Visibility & Self-Advocacy

I stopped putting myself forward and not because I wasn’t capable, but because I no longer felt capable. It’s the invisible tax menopause places on us.

You shrink yourself, just when your professional power should be peaking.  I used to be the woman in the room who led the big projects, took the stage, drove the strategy.

Suddenly, I was avoiding visibility. Saying no. Telling myself, I’ll do that when I feel more like myself again.  Of course, without the right support, you can spend years waiting for that day.

The Cost of Silence

I didn’t talk about any of this because no one was.  Because it wasn’t safe.

Because I didn’t want to be perceived as weak or past it, however the cost was very real.

My confidence.
My performance.
My career momentum.

Silence steals more than menopause does.

Rebuilding

Getting the right support,  in my case, HRT changed everything.

Gradually, I began to rebuild my mental health -

My sharpness returned (most of the time, though I still blame the occasional lapse on my blonde highlights)
My memory stabilised
My confidence returned
My leadership presence came back online

And with it came a fire in my belly:

I will talk about this and I will make damn sure other women lose far less ground than I did.

Your Call To Action

If any of this resonates, if you’ve felt your own version of this shrinking please know:

You are not imagining it.
You are not alone.
And you do NOT have to shrink your professional self through this chapter.

This conversation belongs at leadership tables, not whispered in the shadows by people who have nothing better to do than snigger at your struggles.

We are not ‘less than.’ 

We are navigating biology.

And when supported, we lead with the same fire we’ve always had, often more, because we’ve walked through the furnace (quite literally I might add) and survived it.

And if you’d like help rebuilding your confidence and leadership presence in this next chapter,  I’d love to talk.

Give me a call for a real conversation and a guaranteed giggle. 

Let’s face it, we should all be laughing.
I just forget why…

👉 Let's Have a Chat - No Sales Pitch, Just a Real Conversation

Here for you always

Lisa

Why not grab the free Midlife Guide to browse with a cuppa!  Grab it HERE - Enjoy with a drink!