Danielle (52) is an internal account manager, single, and a mother to a daughter. She used to travel across the entire country for work without a moment's hesitation. Hectic schedules, unfamiliar routes, and packed agendas once gave her energy. However, around the time of menopause, that changed. Suddenly, she began to feel tension doing things that had previously come naturally.
Recently, I stood at my front door with my car key in hand and seriously thought: perhaps I should just cancel.
It wasn’t even about anything significant. Danielle had an appointment across town with an old friend she had recently reconnected with. Yet, there she was, standing by the front door, car key already in hand. Suddenly, she began to question whether she should still go.
“I used to drive all over the Netherlands for work without a second thought. Traffic jams, busy roads, unfamiliar routes—I never gave it a moment’s pause.”
As a field sales account manager, she had actually loved driving. The freedom, being on the road, meeting new people—it had suited her perfectly. “People would sometimes say they couldn’t understand why I enjoyed it so much. I thought it was brilliant.”
That’s exactly why this newfound tension felt so strange. Not just because of the fear itself, but especially because she didn’t recognise herself in it. Since when had something so ordinary become so complicated?
What I found most peculiar was not the fear itself, but the fact that I didn’t recognise it in myself at all.
Danielle always saw herself as someone who moved through life freely and without restraint. As a child, she spent much of her time outdoors, often playing with the boys from her neighbourhood. She would climb anything, leap off everything, and never gave much thought to danger.
“My mother used to say: you’ve got absolutely no fear in you. And that’s exactly how it felt. I just lived, without overthinking everything.”
That mindset didn’t change as she grew older. She connected with people easily, adapted to new situations without effort, and made decisions quickly. When it came to work, she had no difficulty walking into unfamiliar places. She drove herself to appointments, delivered presentations, attended lunches and meetings. A busy life was simply part of who she was.
“And now, I can sometimes feel tense over something as simple as a packed schedule. Or even a birthday.”
Danielle began to notice that, days in advance, she would already be preoccupied with questions that had never crossed her mind before. How busy will it be? Will I be able to leave easily? Do I have enough energy to be sociable? “Whereas I used to be the one who stayed until the very end.”
Danielle noticed that even in small, everyday situations, she became unsettled more easily. She would feel startled if someone suddenly appeared beside her in the supermarket. At times, she would see her phone ringing and think, not now.
She also observed changes in herself during conversations. “I suddenly realised I was hesitating, whereas before, I always had an opinion about everything without giving it a second thought.”
Outwardly, almost no one noticed. Danielle continued to function. She worked, made plans, laughed, and fulfilled what was expected of her. All the while, she was constantly on edge.
“It felt as though my nervous system was perpetually wound too tight. Some days, I spent the entire time just trying to keep myself calm. It takes so much energy.”
People often didn’t even notice. I was functioning normally, but inside I was constantly trying to keep myself composed.
Driving remained the most prominent example of that change for Danielle, particularly because driving had once been so closely tied to a sense of freedom.
"Now, I could suddenly feel startled by heavy traffic or become overly vigilant about everything around me. It was as though my mind was constantly fixated on preventing something from going wrong."
Yet, she occasionally experienced the same sense of restlessness while sitting at home on the sofa. She found that even more exasperating. There was no heavy traffic, no demanding schedule, and no obvious cause. Still, her body would react as though there was imminent danger.
"My mind knew perfectly well that everything was fine, but my body didn’t always seem to agree."
Initially, Danielle became frustrated with herself. She thought: pull yourself together, what’s going on here? She tried to push through it, just as she always had. Just keep going. Don’t make a fuss.
The more she resisted the tension, the more intense it seemed to grow.
After a while, Danielle began avoiding certain situations. Quieter places. Fewer commitments. Less driving. It brought her temporary relief. Yet, at the same time, she realised her world was becoming smaller.
“That really shook me. I remember cancelling a birthday once and then thinking: since when do I even do this?”
It didn’t match the person she knew herself to be. Danielle had always been someone who enjoyed going out, seeking people out, and adapting with ease. Now, she found herself feeling tense even before anything had happened.
Gradually, she began to realise that menopausal symptoms could be far more varied than she had always assumed. “I really had this stereotypical image of hot flushes and a bit of trouble sleeping. Not this.”
Then, more pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place: the poor sleep, the restlessness, the constant feeling of being on edge, becoming more emotional more easily, and those waves of anxiety with no obvious cause.
Danielle eventually sought help because she felt trapped in a cycle of tension, being overly self-critical, and increasingly avoiding certain situations. Simply talking about it provided her with a sense of relief.
“Someone told me I wasn’t losing my mind. That alone made a difference.”
Following the advice of her gynaecologist, Danielle sought support from a coach. There, she learned to approach her anxiety in a different way, without feeling the need to tackle everything all at once. It was about taking small, manageable steps: driving again, attending an appointment, and resisting the urge to flee at the first sign of tension.
Sometimes this approach worked well, and at other times it didn’t. Just as important was that Danielle began to be less hard on herself.
“Accepting that I no longer do everything the way I used to was perhaps the most challenging part.”
Alongside the coaching, Danielle also addressed her symptoms from a medical perspective. In her case, hormone therapy was prescribed. “I’ve noticed it takes the sharp edges off. That’s really helpful.”
Trust is gradually returning. Not the old sense of certainty, but the feeling that tension does not signify I am losing myself.
For Danielle, it was helpful to realise that her anxiety wasn’t simply “all in her head.” At the same time, it is important not to automatically attribute symptoms solely to menopause.
“Menopause can have a significant impact on how you feel. However, you don’t have to accept anxiety, restlessness, or tension as something that inevitably comes with it.”
What she wants to share with other women is that it’s perfectly okay to seek help if anxiety, restlessness, or tension is making your life feel smaller. Especially if you no longer recognise yourself, start avoiding activities, or are using up a lot of energy just to function as usual.
“Don’t keep it to yourself. It might be related to menopause, or there could be other factors involved. You don’t have to wait until your world becomes smaller and smaller.”
For Danielle, it’s not as though everything has suddenly disappeared. She still experiences tension, and some days remain difficult, but there is a sense of trust again. Not with the same ease as before, but with the understanding that tension doesn’t automatically mean she’s losing herself.
Perhaps you recognise some of the symptoms described in this story. Are you wondering if your symptoms could be related to menopause? The menopause test can help provide further insight.
