So something happened on Instagram and Facebook last week.

I shared about my GLP-1 use.

Many commented CHOOSE.

Which told me two things. One, you’re curious about the results. And two, you’re really curious about the GLP-1 part.

So let’s talk about it properly. Because you deserve more than a caption.

First, some context.

I was not prescribed a GLP-1 because I wanted to lose weight.

I was prescribed one because I had metabolic syndrome. Prediabetes. Visceral fat at 124cm², which sits firmly in the high-risk category. And a family history of heart disease and diabetes that made my GP and me both take that number seriously.

This wasn’t a cosmetic decision. It was, genuinely, about survival. About reducing my risk of becoming another statistic in a family that has not been kind to its women metabolically. I was also supporting my mother with her own health challenges, which put my doctor and me on high alert for my own health span.

And I want to be clear about that every single time I talk about this. Because the conversation around GLP-1s is so loaded right now, and I refuse to add to the noise.

What it actually did.

Within weeks, my appetite normalised in a way it hadn’t in years. The constant mental chatter around food quieted. I wasn’t limiting myself to 800 calories a day or a certain food group. I wasn’t obsessing, bargaining, or white-knuckling through meals. For the first time, food just became... food.

My blood sugar stabilised. My visceral fat decreased from 124 cm² to 58.3 cm² over the course of a year. The DEXA scan data doesn’t lie.

But here’s what I need you to hear.

The GLP-1 created a window. That’s all. A window of biological capacity where things became possible that hadn’t been possible before. What I did with that window was entirely up to me.

What the GLP-1 did NOT do.

It did not get me to the gym.

It did not make me hit 130 grams of protein a day. It did not tell me to prioritise fibre, take my supplements, sort out my gut health with my naturopath, or go to bed at a reasonable hour instead of doom-scrolling until midnight.

It did not build the lean muscle I’ve built through progressive overload at the gym.

It did not optimise my hormones. That was HRT, and honestly, testosterone getting my energy back was the prerequisite for everything else. Without that, none of the rest would have been possible.

I did all of that. Alongside the medication, not because of it.

And this is the part that gets lost in the GLP-1 conversation on both sides.

The people who say it’s a magic bullet are wrong. The people who say it’s cheating are also wrong.

The truth is more nuanced and frankly more interesting than either camp wants to admit.

The thing about willpower.

I spent years thinking I had a willpower problem.

Turns out I had a hormone problem, a metabolic problem, and a perimenopause problem. My body was working against me in ways I didn’t yet have the language for.

The GLP-1 didn’t give me willpower. It removed some of the biological noise so I could actually hear myself think. So I could make choices that weren’t being constantly overridden by a dysregulated system.

That’s not cheating. That’s medicine doing what medicine is supposed to do.

But... and this is important... the choices still had to be made. Every single day. That part was still mine.

Where I’m at now.

Four strength sessions and two runs per week. Protein target of 130-140 grams a day, 30g of fibre. which I will tell you is not easy and requires genuine planning, but once you have it, it can be set-and-forget.

DEXA scans are the best way to see how I’m tracking. Ensuring I am preserving and building lean muscle, not just losing fat. The data will tell me, but so far, the approach is working.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Because I am acutely aware that I am not just talking into a void.

A lot of you are in the thick of perimenopause, and you are exhausted, and you have tried everything, and nothing is working, and you are starting to wonder if this is just who you are now.

It is not who you are. It’s what your hormones are doing. And there is a difference.

I’m not your doctor. I’m not giving you medical advice. What I am doing is sharing my lived experience and the research I’ve obsessively done, because I was once the woman who needed to hear that it could get better, and I didn’t have anyone telling me that.

So, here I am. Telling you.

It can get better. The path looks different for everyone. Mine involved HRT, a GLP-1, an exercise physiologist, a naturopath, a psychologist, a lot of protein, and approximately twenty tabs open at all times.

Yours might look completely different. That’s okay.

But I hope somewhere in my story, you find a thread back to yourself.

Robyn x

Not medical advice. Always work with your healthcare team.

If you want the full framework I used, my guide, Choose Yourself, is available now.

If you’re sitting with questions about GLP-1s and want the honest answers, I’ve put together a free guide covering the five things I wish someone had told me before I started. It’s called GLP-1 and Midlife: The 5 Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me, and it’s free.

Grab it here.

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There's a specific kind of disorientation that nobody talks about in midlife. You've done or are doing the work. Maybe you've lost weight, or started exercising properly, or finally got your hormones sorted. You look in the mirror, and something is better.

But something else feels... off.

Your clothes don't quite fit the person you're becoming.

You grab the same things you always have, and they feel wrong, but you don't know why, and you definitely don't know what to replace them with. That low-grade style paralysis? Completely normal. Also completely fixable. This post is for you if you're somewhere in that in-between

If you missed my first post about Jade from The Seasonal Stylist (sidenote: she’s an ex-Chiropractor, so if anyone knows bodies, she does, and she’s just pivoted from one form of healing to another), the short version is this: I discovered I’m a True Autumn, had something of a colour epiphany, and promptly fell down a very satisfying rabbit hole. Classic me.

Well. I went back.

And honestly, Jade made it inevitable. She’d been posting these incredible before-and-afters of celebrities, same person, same body, completely different impact depending on whether they were dressed to their lines or not. I became invested in each post.

Obsessed.

Then my own jeans post went semi-viral, and half the internet spent a week arguing that the photos were AI-generated, two outfits, days apart, same body, completely different story.

That was the moment I thought, okay. I need to understand what is actually happening here, because clearly, there is a science to this, and I have been operating without it for 49 years. With a wardrobe overhaul well overdue and almost-50 on the horizon, I booked session two.

First, a quick confession

Can I be honest about something? Losing weight over the past 18 months has been brilliant for my health and energy. But no one warned me that it would also come with this strange, untethered feeling around my own image. Like, I got my body back but lost my style compass in the process.

It actually reminded me a lot of how I felt postpartum. You look in the mirror and think, okay, I know this person... but also, who ARE you right now?

With almost 50 on the horizon, I decided this was the moment to build something intentional. Not a wardrobe I’d assembled by accident or desperation, but one that actually makes sense for who I am now, in this body, at this stage.

Enter: session two with Jade.

The Kibbe system

So Jade works with the Kibbe body typing system, which goes well beyond the “are you an apple or a pear” stuff we’ve all been served for decades. It looks at your bone structure, your flesh, your overall lines, and works out how clothing can honour all of that rather than fight it.

I discovered am a Flamboyant Natural. My essence is Classic.

Flamboyant Natural, for those playing at home, is all about relaxed, flowing, slightly undone energy. Natural fabrics, easy silhouettes, nothing too fussy. And Classic essence means I actually crave order, structure and elegance underneath all of that. (Anyone who has seen my spreadsheets will not be surprised.)

The combination of these two, apparently, is why I feel most like myself in a well-cut linen shirt and quality jeans, rather than anything overly embellished or trend-driven. Good to have confirmation that my instincts weren’t completely off, and now I know how to shop best.

The jacket moment

Please don’t judge the under angle - my most flattering yet hehe

Here is where I had a genuine revelation, and also felt mildly betrayed by everything I thought I knew.

I have always assumed I should wear cropped jackets. Waist-length. Classic hourglass logic, right? Stop at the smallest point, emphasise the waist, done.

Wrong.

For a Flamboyant Natural, the right jacket length is either to the hip/upper thigh or all the way to the ankle. Cropped cuts off the vertical line and breaks the easy, elongated look that actually flatters my proportions.

I have been shortening my line for years with the best laid intentions.

The same goes for skirts and pants. Either mini or floor length. Midi? A hard no. Midi cuts me off right where I don’t want to be cut off.

This is why I favour bike shorts or full-length leggings with my activewear, and when I do wear my cropped leggings, I feel stumpy.

I walked out of that session and immediately looked at my wardrobe with new eyes. Some things passed the test. Others did not.

Op-shopping with a plan (a very Classic Essence thing to do)

This weekend I ended up at a charity shop event. One of those overwhelming, everything-is-everywhere affairs that normally would have me walking out empty-handed and mildly stressed.

This time? I had a framework. I knew what I was looking for. Relaxed silhouettes, natural fabrics, the right lengths, my True Autumn palette. I moved through that shop with actual confidence and came home with pieces I love.

That felt significant.

A message that made me smile

A friend reached out after her own session with Jade (she coincidentally had her session immediately after mine). She’s a completely different shape and essence.

She had shared that she was very keen to try the jeans I had purchased after seeing my viral post.

Yes. Exactly that.

What’s next

I’m now weeks out from a trip to New Zealand, which is possibly the most motivated I have ever been to go charity shopping with a printed checklist. With cooler weather than I’ve experienced in a long time, which means layers, knitwear, and all the earthy autumn tones I’m now fully licensed to wear.

My ADHD brain is, predictably, in full deep-dive mode. I’m researching Kibbe. I’m rewatching Essence explainers. I’m standing in front of my wardrobe making decisions with actual reasoning behind them instead of just grabbing whatever feels fine.

It feels like building something. A blueprint, almost. One that will outlast trends and serve me as I move through this next chapter.

And honestly? That’s exactly what I needed.

Have you done any colour or body-type analysis? I’d love to know. Drop it in the comments below.

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The wardrobe rebuild is just one piece. The bigger project, the one I wrote a whole book about, is rebuilding your entire life with intention in midlife. Health, habits, identity, all of it. Choose Yourself is that book. Link below.

Link to ebook

The jeans post drew a wave of naysayers convinced I was lying. And honestly? At first, I felt defensive. Who are these strangers on the internet to tell me that isn’t my body?

Then I sat with it and realised, we live in a time where it’s genuinely hard to know what’s real. Filters, AI, paid promotions masquerading as honest content. The scepticism makes sense. If we’re raising our kids to think critically about what they see online, then fair play to anyone applying that same lens to me.

For what it’s worth, I didn’t put my face in the original images because I have teenagers. I am already an embarrassment for simply existing. Putting my whole body on the internet for the world to see felt like a step too far. Then I remembered I’m perimenopausal and I am slowly, gloriously, running out of concern for what anyone thinks of me. My eldest kept telling me to stop defending it. He’s probably right.

The whole reason I shared it in the first place was that I genuinely couldn’t believe how much difference a pair of jeans could make without losing a single kilogram. And since posting, I’ve had more messages and comments than I can count from women who went out, bought the same pair, and had the exact same reaction. Maybe Kmart owes me a commission.

Clothes matter, people! And I’m pushing 50 and just learning how to dress my body now!

Between Instagram and Facebook, the posts clocked over a million views. My Substack stats went a little wild, too, which means there are a lot of new faces around here this week.

👋 Hi, if that’s you. Welcome. You’ve landed in a corner of the internet where we talk honestly about midlife: the body changes, the identity shifts, the wardrobe crises, the perimenopause plot twists, and occasionally the surprisingly excellent jeans from Kmart. I’m really glad you’re here.

I’d love to hear from you in the comments. Where did you find me, and what brings you here? Or if you have a question about anything, jeans, midlife, or all of the above, drop it below.

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Anyway. I’m slowly building my capsule wardrobe with actual intention for the first time in my life, and in two weeks, I have another styling session with Jade from The Seasonal Stylist to work on body architecture/lines and essence, which I cannot wait for. The goal is a wardrobe that feels relaxed, effortless and actually like me at this stage of life.

I’m getting there. And I’m enjoying the process more than I expected.

And if you think the jeans transformation was mind-blowing, just wait. I've been sitting on something for a few weeks that I can't wait to share. For the last three months, the scales haven't moved. Not a gram. And yet my body has been completely changing. I have the scans to prove it. More on that very soon.

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The wardrobe rebuild is just one piece. The bigger project, the one I wrote a whole book about, is rebuilding your entire life with intention in midlife. Health, habits, identity, all of it. Choose Yourself is that book. Link below.

Link to ebook

If you’ve been around here for a while, you’ll know that’s a big deal. Because for most of my life, I have loudly, proudly declared that I am not a runner. Running was for other people. People who didn’t panic-breathe, as if they were being chased. People who didn’t flash back to school sports carnivals every time their lungs started burning.

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Until my parents came to stay over Christmas and New Year, and my dad, a 70-year-old ex-army and current personal trainer for over-50s, was up at 4 am every day to get his steps and runs in.

He gently encouraged me to join him for a run.

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Lately, I’ve been quietly having more and more conversations with women who say,

“I thought it was just me.”

Some are already on the other side of it.
Some are standing right at the beginning, wondering if this is what they are experiencing now.

And almost all of them say the same thing.

“I’m so relieved these conversations are finally happening.”

Because st…

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Years, actually.

Chronic fatigue. Depression. A body with joint pain that felt heavy and unpredictable.
I deeply missed movement, but I didn’t have the energy or joy to meet it.

What I didn’t know at the time was that the flatness, the exhaustion, the itchy skin, urinary urge…

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I’ve never been great at flicking a switch from Christmas straight into goals, routines and forward motion. I need the buffer. The pause between Christmas and New Year. The soft landing before the year really begins.

February is where it starts for me.

This year, especially, that space felt…

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Last month, I reached a milestone I’m deeply proud of.
It marked twelve months of consciously choosing myself.

Not in the fluffy, self-care hashtag kind of way, but in the real, uncomfortable, healing kind of way. The kind that asks you to set boundaries, say no, rest more, and stop apologising for needing time.

A year of listening to my body instead of fi…

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I’d never heard the word adenomyosis until I was told I had it.

In 2023, after months of heavy, energy-sapping periods that were getting worse by the cycle, I finally had a pelvic ultrasound. I was 45, and what I thought was just “getting older” turned out to be something else entirely.

When I say heavy, I don’t mean “a bit more than usual.” I mean crime scene heavy. Not being able to leave the house on day one or two because I’d bleed through a tampon and pad within 20 minutes. Having to sleep with towels under me. Getting up multiple times a night to change tampons. Planning my life around my period because it had become that unpredictable and unmanageable.

The ultrasound results came back with one unfamiliar word: adenomyosis.

It’s a mouthful, but here’s what it means: the tissue that normally lines your uterus (the stuff that sheds during your period) starts growing into the muscular wall of the uterus itself. So every month, instead of that lining neatly shedding, it thickens and bleeds inside the muscle, causing inflammation, swelling, pain, and that relentless, heavy bleeding.

No wonder my iron was in the basement.

Until quite recently, adenomyosis was something many women were only diagnosed with after a hysterectomy, when the tissue could be examined under a microscope. Which meant for decades, most of us were told it was “just heavy periods” or “normal for your age.”

Now, with advances in high-resolution pelvic ultrasounds and MRIs, more women are finally getting answers earlier.

And unsurprisingly, the majority of those diagnoses are happening in our 40s, the decade where hormones start to fluctuate wildly and where pregnancies, births, and uterine procedures may have left their mark.

By this stage of life, our bodies have been through a lot and those microscopic pathways between the uterine lining and muscle wall can form more easily. Add in surges of oestrogen during perimenopause and you’ve got the perfect storm for adenomyosis to make itself known.

At first, my treatment plan was to regulate my hormones with a birth control pill called Qlaira. My gynaecologist offered me HRT at this time too, but I was scared to take it. I thought menopause and this stage of life were “natural”, something to be embraced, not medicated. Plus, I’d heard the word. HRT was cancer-causing and dangerous. Or so I thought.

I thought I could just power through.

Qlaira mimics a healthy menstrual cycle, with changing doses of estrogen and progestin throughout the month. The idea was to regulate my hormones and ease the bleeding. The reality? For six months, I lived with a headache or, on the lucky days, a migraine. I didn’t realise until I came off it that the pill was the culprit.

So, I did what so many women do: I learned to live with the heavy bleeding. I designed my life around my period. My tracker told me when I was due, and I’d make sure I didn’t have much planned on those days. Not ideal, but it was the only way to stay functional.

Two years later, at 47, my “regular” periods suddenly became… irregular. I went from clockwork cycles to nothing. 100 days without a bleed. After a panicked pregnancy test to rule out a surprise baby, I did a menopause scorecard, and my gynaecologist confirmed what I hadn’t expected to hear so soon:

I was in the late stages of perimenopause.

That shocked me. I thought perimenopause could drag on for five to ten years, and that menopause didn’t usually hit until around 51. I couldn’t quite get my head around the idea that my fertile years were almost over.

So I finally started HRT, something I’ve already written a bit about. Not just because I hadn’t bled for 100 days but this was further confirmation I was deep in peri. Having a super high score on the menopause symptom scorecard was the clincher. I’ve shared a bit about my symtpoms, but you can listen again here if you like.

At first, I tried the standard Prometrium (a natural progesterone), but I couldn’t tolerate it. Then I was offered Slinda, a progestin-only birth control pill. One of its side effects? It stops bleeding altogether.

Which, for me, was both a blessing and a bit of a head spin. After years of flooding through pads and planning my life around my period, suddenly I wasn’t bleeding at all. My iron levels stabilised. My energy improved. My washing machine got a break.

Slinda is also used for women with PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) or mood fluctuations, and it’s had great success in regulating hormones and improving mood stability. Something I’ve definitely noticed.

So while it’s a little odd not knowing exactly where I am in my cycle anymore, I’ll take it. The positives far outweigh the negatives.

We don’t talk enough about how confusing this middle stage of life can be. One minute you’re bleeding like a stuck pig, the next you’ve gone 100 days without a period, and you’re Googling “can you get pregnant in perimenopause.”

Adenomyosis, hormones, perimenopause, it’s all connected. And it’s only when we start sharing these stories that more women realise what’s actually normal (and what’s not).

Because we deserve more than to be told to “just put up with it.”

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Years ago, I had done an online version where you send through some selfies and a stylist analyses them, but the problem with that is… photos lie. Lighting, filters, shadows; they all play tricks on the eye. The top you’re wearing or even the wall behind you can throw everything off. So while I got something helpful out of that experience, I always had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t the full story.

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Earlier in the year, I decided to take a proactive approach to managing and supporting my body for aging well. And in doing so, I decided to have a DEXA scan to get a baseline for where my muscle mass, bone density and fat distribution were at.

Often, we're advised to have a DEXA scan when it's already too late and we've got osteopenia or osteoporosis. By knowing my starting point, I can take steps to prevent and avoid complications as I age. A DEXA scan is a simple, non-invasive way to measure your bone density, muscle mass, and body fat distribution.

Back in June, I wrote about undergoing my first DEXA scan as part of what I referred to as my "rebuild phase."

If you want to read more about that first, you can read it here.

Three months later, I'm back with my 3-month follow-up results from last week, and honestly, I'm still processing what they mean, but it's looking good.

The numbers that matter:

• My body fat is down: 36.7% → 33.1% (3.6% decrease)

• Fat mass lost: 4.47kg over three months

• Muscle mass: Essentially maintained (lost only 295g)

• Visceral fat: 124cm² → 92.5cm² (moved from "increased risk" to "normal")

• Bone density: Not only maintained but slightly improved

My doctor (an exercise physiologist) called it "80% improvement in metrics over three months."

However, what those numbers don't capture is the entire picture…

The reality behind the results

The past three months weren't a fitness success montage. Some days training felt harder than others, and my consistency with walking was actually worse than before June's DEXA.

Yet my body was still responding positively to the changes I was able to make. The visceral fat reduction alone, moving from "increased risk" to "normal" range, significantly lowers my risk for cardiovascular and metabolic diseases.

That's not vanity metrics; that's health span.

What actually worked

Looking back, a few things made the difference:

• Showing up to the gym. Even when training felt hard, I showed up. Maybe my workouts weren't always strong, but on some days they were, and other days I just showed up. Some days, my 100% meant hitting every exercise with energy to spare. Other days, my 100% was dragging myself to the gym and doing whatever felt possible. Both versions got me to these results. My exercise physiologist emphasised progressive overload in strength training.

• Professional guidance. This wasn't a DIY experiment. Having someone interpret my scans, adjust my program, and monitor my progress made all the difference between spinning my wheels and actual results. I'm happy to report that, as a weight management coach, most of the guidance wasn't far off from what I have been trained to provide.

• Measuring what matters. Tracking visceral fat and muscle mass rather than just scale weight gave me a clearer picture of what was actually happening in my body.

The perimenopause plot twist

Here's what I find most interesting: these improvements happened during perimenopause, when everything we're told suggests our bodies should be working against us. Declining estrogen, slower metabolism, and increased fat storage around the middle are all the things that make midlife women feel like they're fighting uphill.

But my results suggest that with the right approach, we can work with our changing bodies rather than against them. The key seems to be getting specific about what needs attention (hence the DEXA scan) and having professional support to navigate the complexities.

What's next

I have a plan for continuing this momentum, and I'll be sharing more about my overall approach when I hit my 12-month mark in November.

The bigger picture

These three months reinforced something I've been thinking about a lot: the importance of measuring and monitoring during perimenopause rather than just accepting that everything goes to hell after 40.

Gathering baseline data, whether through a DEXA scan, comprehensive blood work, or collaborating with experts, provides a concrete foundation to work with. You're not guessing anymore; you're responding to actual information about your body.

The results also remind me that our bodies are more resilient and responsive than we often give them credit for, even during hormonal transitions. But they also require more intentional support than they did in our 20s and 30s.

If you're considering a DEXA scan or feeling stuck with your health during perimenopause, here's what I'd suggest:

1. Get baseline measurements before making changes

2. Work with professionals who understand midlife women's physiology

3. Focus on body composition, not just weight

4. Be prepared for non-linear progress

5. Address energy and nutrition alongside exercise

The conversation I want to have:

Have you noticed changes in how your body responds to exercise and nutrition during perimenopause? What measurements or markers have been most helpful for tracking your health? Are there specific challenges you're facing that feel different from when you were younger?

Hit reply and let me know, I'm always learning from your experiences too.

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