By Tara Hagan-Fields
A reflection on perimenopause, nervous system load, and why so many women feel unlike themselves.
This is a vulnerable reflection. I share parts of my own journey through postpartum change, burnout, and perimenopause — not as medical advice, but in the hope that other women feel seen and supported in their own experience.
I was 34 when I had my son.
Before that, I had mild endometriosis, but it never interfered with pregnancy. I conceived easily, delivered a healthy baby, and returned to work sooner than many would have. I love what I do. At four weeks postpartum I saw a few patients. By twelve weeks I was back four days a week.
When my son was nine months old, he was hospitalized with silent pneumonia in both lungs. It was frightening in a quiet way — the kind that lingers. He recovered well, but something in me stayed vigilant long after he did.
Around the eleven-month mark postpartum, I felt a shift in myself.
I was diagnosed with postpartum depression and prescribed antidepressants. I tried them. The first prescription numbed more than anxiety.
It dulled my connection to my work.
It dulled my connection at home.
It dulled my ability to feel fully — even the hard emotions that help us move through life.
With medical guidance, I discontinued it after a short trial.
The anxiety intensified. I tried a different medication, again under supervision.
The same flattening occurred.
After discussion with my provider, we chose not to continue.
Not long after, the panic attacks began.
At the time, I didn’t know what I was navigating — postpartum hormone withdrawal, accumulated stress, nervous system overload, early perimenopause, or simply new motherhood layered onto a driven personality.
What I understand now is that postpartum is one of the most dramatic hormonal transitions a woman will ever experience. Estrogen and progesterone drop rapidly. Add interrupted sleep, acute stress, and hypervigilance — and the body adapts.
Sometimes by bracing.
And I don’t think mine ever fully softened again.
The Slow Escalation
Through my mid-to-late 30s, things subtly changed.
Hot flashes lingered.
My periods became heavier and more painful.
Sleep shifted.
Libido declined.
Fatigue deepened.
By 40, everything intensified — the heat, the mood changes, the exhaustion, the brain fog.
I have always known my body. I am proactive. I lean into education. I use the resources around me. I understand women’s health through both personal and professional lenses.
So when symptoms escalated, I questioned early perimenopause.
I was told I was too young.
I returned to anti-anxiety medication during that season when the strategies I had been relying on to regulate my system were no longer accessible. This, too, was done in collaboration with my healthcare provider. I wasn’t rejecting care. I was trying to stabilize.
What felt most disorienting wasn’t just the symptoms.
It was knowing something was off — and not having language for it.
Burnout and Capacity
Five years ago, burnout layered itself on top of everything else.
My capacity narrowed.
Home and family life felt heavier. Being around people outside of my treatment room became draining. I began withdrawing — not because I didn’t care, but because my nervous system felt thin.
And yet, in the treatment room, I felt coherent.
Not because care was rigid or predetermined — but because it required deep listening. Slowing down. Following the subtle cues in tissue. Trusting what my hands were feeling.
Attunement regulated me.
The work wasn’t an escape. It was alignment.
But outside of that space, depletion was undeniable.
And depletion changes how the body handles transition.
The Threshold
At 40, I had a period — and then nothing for 11 months and 17 days.
When it returned, I remember the disappointment clearly. I was 13 days shy of the one-year mark. Close enough to think I might have clarity. Not quite there.
After a few relatively regular cycles, my periods stopped.
The symptoms continued.
Sixteen months passed without a cycle. I thought I had already crossed into menopause.
In that window, I began hormone therapy.
Only a few months into treatment, I experienced a heavy, prolonged bleed. Clotted. Weeks long.
It was disorienting. I had already grieved what I believed was the end of my cycles.
That bleed became my final period.
Testing was “normal.”
Still too young.
Meanwhile:
Hot flashes intensified.
Sleep deteriorated.
Anxiety returned in waves.
Rage surfaced in ways that startled me.
Pelvic discomfort and bladder symptoms became daily.
There was a new awareness of my body composition changing — muscle tone shifting, weight redistributing in unfamiliar ways.
My eyes felt dry and strained.
My muscles felt diminished.
Brain fog shook my confidence.
Not long after, I developed what I now recognize as a frozen shoulder. It was never formally diagnosed at the time, but the restriction and pain were unmistakable. Looking back, I can’t ignore how often adhesive capsulitis appears in women during hormonal transition.
I remember thinking: this cannot just be stress.
What I See Now
Perimenopause is not simply estrogen declining.
It is fluctuating estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone — each influencing tissue hydration, muscle resilience, thermoregulation, cognition, and nervous system tone.
Those hormonal shifts occur inside a body that has been adapting for decades.
Fascia reinforces.
It thickens.
It redistributes load.
It holds.
What once supported us can become what we are unconsciously bracing with.
When hormonal buffering capacity changes, those long-standing patterns can feel louder.
Not because the body is failing.
But because it is asking for something different.
As a manual therapist, I do not diagnose hormonal conditions or manage medication. That work belongs with your GP, Nurse Practitioner, or Naturopath.
What I can assess and treat is soft tissue and fascial restriction — the structural and nervous system patterns that shape how the body experiences change.
Gentle, sustained myofascial release can support tissue hydration, restore more balanced load sharing, reduce protective guarding, and help regulate the nervous system toward a parasympathetic state.
Massage therapy does not change hormone levels.
But it can change the structural and nervous system environment those hormones are acting within.
And that matters.
Continuing the Work
In that season, I used many tools.
Some were holistic.
Some were structural.
Some were medical.
I explored nutrition, strength work, nervous system support, hands-on care. Some helped. Some did not.
Hormone therapy eventually became part of my care plan, in collaboration with my healthcare providers. It was the right choice for me at that time.
That does not mean it is the right choice for every woman.
This transition is deeply individual, and decisions around medication deserve thoughtful conversation with a trusted medical provider.
Over time, I committed to daily care in a different way.
Gentle myofascial unwinding.
Strength work.
Time on a vibration plate.
Improving my nutrition.
Working collaboratively with my Nurse Practitioner and Naturopath.
Receiving care from trusted therapists who help me discover new areas of restriction in my body.
Continuing to do my own work alongside theirs.
Gradually, many of the symptoms eased.
I am doing better.
But I am still learning. Still adjusting. Still caring for my body intentionally.
Even when symptoms quiet, the body does not forget.
It remembers the seasons it has moved through — and it still deserves care.
To the Woman Reading This
If you are in your 30s and noticing subtle shifts — pay attention.
If you are in your 40s and feel unlike yourself — trust that.
If you are in your 50s or 60s and still navigating the ripple effects of this transition — your experience is valid.
Perimenopause can bring expected changes — and deeply unexpected ones.
Anxiety that feels chemical.
Joint or tendon pain that appears overnight.
Frozen shoulder.
Dry eyes.
Pelvic discomfort.
Heart palpitations.
Rage that feels disproportionate.
Brain fog that unsettles your confidence.
Strange. Disorienting. Sometimes frightening.
Listen to your body.
Ask questions.
Reflect on what has changed.
You are not weak.
You are not dramatic.
You are not imagining it.
This season deserves layered care.
I believe deeply that it takes a team to support us through the different seasons of our lives.
If you are in the Ottawa area and looking for support with perimenopause symptoms, fascial restriction, pelvic discomfort, or nervous system regulation, our team offers myofascial release and manual therapy grounded in whole-person care.
We also work alongside some truly incredible healthcare providers in this city. I refer out often — to Nurse Practitioners, Naturopaths, pelvic health physiotherapists, nutritionists, and physicians who listen well.
If you are unsure where to begin, we are always happy to help connect you with trusted resources.
This is not either/or.
It is integration.
The body that carried you here is still intelligent.
It may simply need support — not dismissal.
And you do not have to move through this season alone.
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