When Menopause Comes Early: One Man’s Journey of Love and Understanding

When I fell in love with her, I genuinely thought I knew what it meant to be present in someone’s life, to show support, to care, to hold steady through life’s numerous curveballs. But nothing quite prepared me for the quiet storm of early menopause. It crept in like a whisper and then became a presence in our everyday lives. While it was not my body changing, it deeply affected both of us.

She was only in her early 40s when the subtle shifts began: fragmented sleep, unexpected tears, mood swings that left her confused and frustrated. Then the more unmistakable signs followed: hot flashes that stole her breath in the middle of a meeting, memory lapses that made her doubt herself, and an overwhelming fatigue that no amount of rest could fix. Then there was the pain, often crippling pain that came out of nowhere.

I saw her retreat into herself at times, trying to make sense of what was happening. I would watch her stare into space, hand over her heart, as if trying to reconnect with the woman she was before this all started. I will be honest, at first, I felt useless. I wanted to fix it, to bring her comfort, to take away the symptoms. I had dedicated my life to helping people in pain, I knew all the science… But this was not something I could solve. I had to learn to simply be there, and that, for a while, felt like not enough.

Over time, I realised that "being there" is everything.

I started to listen more, really listening, not just to what she said, but to what she didn’t say. I began reading, asking questions, and learning more about the hormonal rollercoaster her body was navigating. I sat beside her during her doctor’s appointments. I held her when the waves of anxiety came out of nowhere. I gave space when she needed silence, and presence when she needed grounding. I stopped taking it personally when she lashed out, not because it didn’t hurt, but because I understood she was hurting too.

There were days she cried because she did not feel like herself anymore, days when her body felt foreign, her emotions too raw, her patience thin. There were moments when she doubted her beauty, her worth and her strength, but from where I stood, she was more beautiful than ever. There is a quiet kind of courage in facing this transition head-on. She had that courage in spades.

One of the hardest parts for her was the sense of isolation, because menopause isn’t often spoken about openly, especially not early menopause. Friends did not always understand. Workplaces offered little support. But at home, I wanted her to know she was never alone.

For any man reading this, whether it is your partner, your sister, or your friend, know this: you do not need to have all the answers. You just need to show up. Stand beside her in the fire. Learn what this journey really means. It is not just “a phase” or “mood swings”, it is a full-body transformation, often laced with grief, identity shifts, and the vulnerability of facing time head-on.

But it can also be a time of deepening love - if you let it.

Our intimacy changed. Our communication evolved. We became more real, more honest, and ironically, more connected. Not despite what she was going through, but because of it.

She is still becoming, and so am I.

This chapter is not just hers - it is ours. And I would not trade the honour of walking beside her for anything.

Written with love and respect for all the women navigating the unspoken journey of early menopause, and the partners learning how to love them through it.

Ben.