The Long Middle—Why This Transition Can Feel So Disorienting

At some point in this transition, almost everyone asks the same quiet question:

Is it just me?

Am I imagining this? Am I overreacting? Did I miss a chapter where this was explained more clearly?

If you’re feeling that way, you’re not behind—and you’re definitely not alone.

What makes this phase so disorienting isn’t just the symptoms themselves. It’s the way they arrive. And leave. And then come back again, slightly rearranged.

Why Symptoms Come and Go

One of the most confusing aspects of this transition is the inconsistency.

You might have a few rough months followed by a stretch where you feel almost normal again. Just long enough to think, Oh. Maybe that was it. Then something shifts. Sleep changes. Your patience evaporates. Your body temperature develops a personality of its own.

This isn’t random. It’s fluctuation.

During perimenopause especially, hormones don’t decline in a smooth downward slope. They spike, dip, rebound, and misfire. The body is adjusting in real time, and the experience reflects that.

So yes—symptoms can improve. They can disappear. They can return later with a new accent.

That doesn’t mean you’re back at square one. It means your body is still negotiating.

Why Nothing Lines Up Neatly

There’s a persistent myth that menopause follows a clean, predictable sequence. That you move from one stage to the next, symptoms escalate, then resolve, and everyone gets the same memo.

That’s not how this works.

Cycles may change before anything else does—or not at all. Emotional shifts can show up long before physical ones. Cognitive changes like brain fog or word-finding issues may appear in isolation, without the symptoms we’ve been taught to expect.

When experiences don’t match the stories we’ve heard, it’s easy to assume something is wrong.

Often, what’s actually wrong is the story.

The Overlooked Emotional and Cognitive Pieces

Much of the menopause conversation still centers on the body—hot flashes, periods, sleep. Important, yes. But incomplete.

This transition also affects how we think, feel, and relate.

Mood changes. Anxiety that seems to come out of nowhere. A shorter fuse. A deeper sense of grief—or relief—or both at once. Difficulty concentrating. Forgetting words you’ve used your entire adult life.

These experiences can be unsettling, especially when they aren’t named or normalized.

They deserve to be part of the conversation.

Letting Go of the Timeline

One of the quiet sources of stress in this phase is the belief that we’re supposed to be somewhere specific by now.

Too early. Too late. Still dealing with this?

But there is no single timeline. No correct pace. No universal sequence of symptoms.

Some people move through quickly. Others take the scenic route. Many don’t realize what phase they were in until they’re already past it.

That doesn’t mean you missed something. It means this transition doesn’t operate on a schedule that can be neatly summarized.

A Different Way to Look at the Long Middle

If this feels like the longest, most ambiguous stretch—there’s a reason.

This is the middle of a major recalibration. Physically, emotionally, neurologically. It’s uncomfortable precisely because things are changing before they settle.

There’s nothing wrong with you for feeling unsteady here.

If this post offers any relief, let it be this:

This phase can be shocking to the system, and a total blindside.  It's OK. You are not doing it out of order.  And you are not alone in wondering what the hell is going on.

Next up: A Second Puberty? Reframing the Experience