I wanted to be invisible

After years of living an outgoing existence, being a natural connector, I realised one of my symptoms of Perimenopause was this.

I’ve been meaning to share more about one of the strangest symptoms I have experienced during perimenopause, one I didn’t even realise was a symptom until I started to feel like myself again.

Social anxiety.

Not the nervous butterflies before a big event kind. I’m talking full-blown dread at the idea of running into anyone I knew at the shops. Heart racing, sweat creeping up the back of my neck, irrational fears about being judged or seen in my not-quite-together state.

And I didn’t want to admit it to anyone — because I didn’t really understand it myself.

I had previously been so outgoing. I’ve lived all over the world, moved to towns and countries, and built new friendships again and again. I’ve thrived on connection. But at some point during my peri haze, I found myself avoiding people.

Shrinking from invitations.

Making excuses.

Hiding in plain sight.

I chalked it up to moving again, starting fresh, maybe just being tired.

But it wasn’t until I started treatment, yes, MHT (previously HRT), therapy, nutrition, the works, that I could zoom out enough to see what was really going on.

You know that saying, you can’t read the label from inside the jar? That was me. Stuck inside the jar, wondering why the world suddenly felt like too much.

And here’s what I wish I’d known earlier:

Social anxiety can absolutely be a part of perimenopause.

We often think of it as something psychological, but the truth is, it’s often deeply hormonal. Estrogen isn’t just about your cycle; it also plays a big role in regulating your brain’s chemistry.

It affects serotonin, dopamine, and GABA, the feel-good, calm-down, stay-social chemicals. So when estrogen starts doing its chaotic rollercoaster thing in perimenopause, those chemicals take a hit, too.

Cue anxiety. Mood swings. Brain fog. Overwhelm.
And for some of us? That overwhelming urge to withdraw.
To shut down. To avoid.
Even from the people we love.

And now? I’m clawing my way back out. Slowly but surely reconnecting with the world around me. Reaching out instead of retreating. Saying yes more. Sharing stories like this one because the more I open up, the more I realise I’m not alone.

I’ve started hitting the gym again — and honestly, that’s something I never thought I’d say. For a long time, even the idea of walking into that space filled me with dread. Not because I didn’t know how to train (I do), but because I felt like I didn’t belong there anymore.

Like I’d lost my confidence. My identity. My spark.

But slowly, I’ve been reclaiming those parts of myself. One workout, one awkward hello, one “I showed up anyway” moment at a time.

And it’s not just the gym — I’ve been saying yes to more social invites too. But this time, I’m doing it with awareness. I’m learning my limits, knowing when to step back, when to rest, and how to express my needs without guilt.

Therapy has helped with that — not just in helping me stretch my comfort zone, but in giving me the tools to speak up when something doesn’t feel right.

After I shared my peri story earlier this week, the messages started pouring in. Emails. DMs. Comments. Phone calls. Women I’ve known for years and women I’ve never met, all sharing similar stories.

The shame.
The confusion.
The exhaustion of not being taken seriously.
The gaslighting from GPs.
The self-doubt.
The ‘I thought it was just me’ feeling.

Here’s the thing: Social connection isn’t just “nice to have.” It’s a critical part of our health. Studies have shown that strong social ties can reduce the risk of premature death, lower blood pressure, and protect against depression and cognitive decline.

One Harvard study followed people for over 80 years and found that close relationships were the strongest predictor of a happy and healthy life. Stronger than money. Stronger than fame. Stronger even than diet or exercise.

So if you’ve found yourself hiding from your friends, from the world, maybe even from yourself, I see you.

I was you.

And I’m not saying it’s easy. It’s not. But the first step for me was recognising that what I was going through wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t failure. It was perimenopause. And it was treatable.

Now, I’m intentionally rebuilding those connections.
Reaching for my people.
Saying yes to the catchups again.
Finding my tribe and also gently letting go of the ones that no longer feel aligned.

Connection is a pillar of health.

And I’m finally stepping back into it, eyes wide open.

If you’re there now, in the jar, just know: there is a way out.

And when you’re ready, we’re out here waiting.