The Pause: Do you wonder if you’ve lost your edge?
For a while, I worried I was past my peak.
That is a hard thought to admit when your work depends on being sharp. I coach leaders through complex people situations and tricky decisions. I listen for what isn’t being said. I help people think clearly when the stakes are high. So feeling I might not be performing at my peak was silently crushing me.
It didn’t happen overnight. A word would disappear mid-sentence. I’d struggle to hold on to a thought. I’d take copious notes to counterbalance poor memory. I’d finish a workday and need to lie down, sometimes for the entire evening. Stress that I would once have handled felt heavier and harder to recover from. I was anxious, irritable, and sometimes deeply low. After a shower, I’d look at the amount of hair falling out into my hands and wonder what was happening to me.
The brain fog frightened me enough that I had a brain scan. But as appointment followed appointment, I kept hearing some version of the same thing: my labs were “fine.”
Over four years, I spoke with more than eight doctors about symptoms that were affecting my health, my confidence, and my ability to work and live the way I wanted. I didn’t expect every doctor to have an immediate answer. I did hope someone would take seriously the distance between “your results are fine” and “I am not fine.”
Eventually, I began supplying my own explanation: maybe I’d lost my drive. Maybe I was less resilient than I used to be. Maybe I just couldn’t handle a demanding career and a full life anymore.
Recently, I met a doctor who listened to the whole story. She was reassuring that I wasn’t critically ill, but she could also see why I felt so far from myself. She looked at my symptoms alongside my test results and helped me understand that perimenopause and low iron stores, along with some vitamin deficiencies, were part of what I was experiencing.
Just as I stepped back for the summer, I began a treatment plan with her. It included an iron infusion after oral supplements hadn’t raised my iron stores enough, a change to my thyroid medication, hormone replacement therapy, and other supplements.
Within a week, I noticed a change. First, my mood lifted. I felt joyful for no particular reason. The concerns in my life hadn’t vanished, but the crippling weight on my chest had. I started exercising again and felt good while I was doing it—and afterward. Then came the part I’d missed most: my mental sharpness. I could think clearly again. Thrilling!!
Feeling better also made me sad.
By August, I could see how slowly these symptoms had changed my experience of work and life. I’d spent years questioning my motivation and confidence when I was dealing with health issues I didn’t yet understand. I thought about how much energy I’d used trying to perform at my usual level while quietly wondering whether that level was gone for good.
And I know I’m not alone. One general manager described leaving her job before she understood what her symptoms meant. Other women have described trying to manage brain fog, disrupted sleep, and mood changes while continuing to show up at work. Their circumstances differ from mine, but I recognize the fear beneath them: What if I can’t do what I used to do?
I’m writing this for the woman who is still delivering for everyone around her but privately wondering why it takes so much more out of her than it used to. For the woman who can see a high-stress situation clearly but no longer feels she has the capacity to carry it. For the woman who has started calling herself lazy, difficult, or past her prime.
I can’t tell you what is causing your symptoms, or what treatment is right for you. I can tell you that my experience changed when I started talking to other women (not doctors), did my own research, found someone who listened, kept asking questions, and helped me investigate what was happening. If you don’t feel like yourself, you deserve that kind of attention. If the answer you receive doesn’t account for what you’re living through, ask more questions or seek another opinion.
The pause gave me room to hear my intuition. It also gave me room to notice that the voice saying something is wrong had been worth listening to all along.