Picture this: I’m having brunch with my friends, enjoying mimosas, and sharing stories. As time flies, the conversations and laughter fill my soul with joy. It’s been a while since we've all gathered like this. However, amid tales and jokes, one of my friends discreetly tries to fan herself with the menu, hoping to go unnoticed. However, one glance at her burning cheeks and beads of sweat on her forehead makes me suspicious.

I lean in and gently whisper, “Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm not sure,” she replies, corners of her eyes a little moist now. "It feels like someone has ignited a fire within me, and I can’t do anything to put it out."

I gently squeeze her hand. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Our table, full of laughter a few minutes ago, has quietened.

She confides in a barely audible voice, “I feel completely exhausted, and my thoughts…don’t even ask! They are all over the place. It’s like tiptoeing through a field of emotions. I never know when the next explosion will occur." Her voice trails off as she looks far away.

I know that look very well. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and understanding, I feel an overwhelming sense of empathy for my girlfriend.

Oh, menopause - that elusive ninja-like creature that has a habit of sneaking up on women when they least expect it.

All of a sudden, my girlfriends are all nodding at once. Their faces reveal that they know it all.

“Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my metabolism the most,” quips one!