Menopause didn’t announce itself to me with dramatic hot flushes or one big, obvious symptom.
It seemed to slip quietly into a life that was already pretty overwhelming — work, family, supporting the people I loved and generally trying to hold everything together in this crazy world of ours.
At this stage of life, so much else can be happening at exactly the same time. Parents may be becoming frailer. There are appointments, prescriptions, paperwork, family responsibilities and endless bits of life admin.
Then grief can enter the picture too.
In the space of just four years, I lost a parent, a sibling and two very close friends.
Four enormous losses. Four people who mattered deeply to me.
My heart was heavy, my mind was constantly busy and sleep wasn’t exactly brilliant. So if I was awake at three in the morning, of course I thought I was worrying. If I was emotional, well, life was hard. If I forgot something, I clearly had too much on my mind.
It honestly never occurred to me that menopause might be quietly walking alongside all of this.
And then came the Teams call.
It was my first week in a new job and my first MS Teams induction meeting. I was going to be introduced to everyone — a chance to make my mark.
There were about 20 of us newbies on the screen, all sitting in our little square boxes looking as though we were taking part in some strange TV quiz.
And then I spotted someone in the gallery view.
Third from the right. Second row.
Hang on.
Who’s that?
Oh. It’s me.
But what’s that funny colour on my hair?
Except it wasn’t colour.
It was my scalp!
OMG!
I was horrified.
That was definitely not how I had intended to make a first impression.
For a split second I thought I could blame technology, claim camera failure and disappear from view at the touch of a button. But hey ho, I needed to engage with these people.
So I put on my best smile, even though I was dying inside, brazened it out and vowed that as soon as the working day ended I was going to investigate what the hell was going on — if only to calm my racing mind.
Because once I’d seen it, I couldn’t unsee it.
I felt awful. Embarrassed. Exposed.
And suddenly all the little things I might previously have explained away — stress, tiredness, hormones, grief, getting older — felt very different.
Getting some answers
It took about a month to get a GP appointment.
I was lucky. I saw a female doctor who was very understanding, and I’d booked a double appointment because I knew ten minutes wasn’t going to cut it.
I went armed with notes and my own observations. I’d never met this doctor before and I felt I needed to set the scene properly — how I’d arrived at this point in my life, what I’d been experiencing and what had changed.
The notes helped me stay on track and make sure I covered everything.
Lord knows doctors probably have little time to thoroughly read your entire life history before you walk through the door.
By then, of course, I had already done what most of us do.
I’d Googled.
And once you start searching online for hair loss, the algorithms lose their minds.
Suddenly I was being bombarded with questionnaires inviting me to self-diagnose and then to buy hair gummies, scalp serums, rosemary oil, saw palmetto, pumpkin seeds, red light therapy, PRP and all manner of miracle solutions.
I became quite the expert.
I even went international on my fact-finding mission.
Some of the companies I came across seemed more interested in collecting your data and selling you a diagnosis so they could then sell you the treatment. There were dodgy websites, AI-generated imagery and claims coming at me from every direction.
So I waited.
After seeing my doctor, I also saw a trichologist and received a formal diagnosis of androgenetic alopecia.
I admit, I cried.
I Googled hair loss and the algorithms lost their minds.
Starting treatment
I was prescribed HRT and topical minoxidil twice a day, alongside six red-light therapy sessions.
And this is where patience comes in.
It took at least six months before I began to notice a difference — mainly a reduction in the amount of daily shedding.
My confidence took longer.
I’d say it was around the 12-month mark before I really started to feel more like myself again.
For me, minoxidil and saw palmetto seem to be helping.
I also came across a minoxidil applicator for applying the topical solution which made it much easier to use the correct amount and apply it to the scalp rather than mostly to my hair.
I use a scalp massager every time I gently wash my hair, which is usually about twice a week. I avoid the hottest setting on the hairdryer, always use a heat-protection spray and choose shampoos and conditioners without sulphates or parabens. I use a Derma Stamp weekly – it’s a microneedling tool which is a cluster of tiny needles to create controlled micro injuries to the scalp using a vertical stamping motion. It improves absorption of the minoxidil and stimulates growth.
I started with 2% minoxidil in liquid form, applied topically twice a day, but I now use 5% foam once a day (I apply it at night). I find the foam much more convenient and, for me, it seems to be working better too — I’m seeing less shedding and some encouraging little baby hairs starting to grow back.
A conversation with my hairdresser after my diagnosis was really useful too. I still colour my hair, just not as often, and I avoid bleach.
I did complete a course of red-light therapy, but personally I’m not convinced I saw enough of a difference to continue with it.
As for Minoxidil side effects, I feel I’ve been lucky. I had read about the possibility of excessive hair growth elsewhere, but that hasn’t happened to me.
And it wasn’t just about my hair
Alongside treatment, I was encouraged to look at my diet and exercise.
I joined a women-only gym, where the instructor was also a qualified nutritionist.
She asked me to complete a questionnaire about the foods I enjoyed, what I disliked and what my eating habits looked like, then put together a month-long food plan.
The emphasis wasn’t really on weight loss — although who doesn’t enjoy losing a few pounds? — but more on eating the right things at the right time and staying properly hydrated.
About a month in, I was sleeping better and my ever-racing mind had started to calm down.
By six weeks, I had more energy.
And something else happened too: I began to enjoy the female spirit of community at the gym.
I was getting to grips with resistance bands, Pilates, kettlebells, circuits and weight training — while meeting lots of other women who were on their own menopause journeys.
You could speak freely there.
Nobody judged you.
And I think that mattered just as much as the exercise.
Then came the hairpiece
This one is down to you, dearest Venus.
I had a black-tie event to attend with my partner in London. So I booked a hairdresser recommended by the hotel. She added a hairpiece into a casual but classy updo.
It lasted all night.
And I felt fabulous!
For me, it was the perfect way to try something like that.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to suddenly turn up at the office with extra hair and leave colleagues wondering whether they were supposed to notice, comment or pretend nothing had happened.
At the event, most of the people had never met me before.
They had absolutely no idea I was wearing a hairpiece.
At the black-tie event, nobody knew I was wearing a hairpiece — and I felt fabulous!
And I began to realise just how normal all of this actually is.
Hairpieces. Fake ponytails. Extensions. Weaves. Nano rings. Tapes. Mesh systems for hair loss.
They are far more widespread than I had imagined.
I used to look at some of the women at the gym and think they all had naturally fabulous, luscious hair.
Then several of them told me they had weaves or extensions too.
Who knew?
What I wish someone had told me
I wish someone had told me that hair thinning is really common — and that noticing more scalp does not automatically mean you are about to go bald as a coot.
I also wish I’d known to take photographs early on.
Instead, I did what lots of people probably do and obsessively checked the mirror every day.
That gets you nowhere. Hair changes slowly, so it’s difficult to see what is actually happening when you look at yourself constantly.
I wish I’d also known sooner that there are treatments and lifestyle changes that may help, depending on the cause — and that getting proper advice early can make a big difference.
So if another woman spots her scalp on a Teams call tomorrow, this is what I’d say to her:
Don’t panic.
Don’t immediately assume something terrible is happening.
And please don’t let that tiny square on your Teams screen make you feel any less confident, attractive or like yourself.
Yes, you’ve noticed your scalp. Maybe your hair has changed. Maybe it is thinner than it used to be. Maybe your parting looks wider. But you are not alone.
And you don’t need to hide it, apologise for it or pretend you haven’t noticed.
Menopause can bring changes we never expected — and hair can be one of them.
It can knock your confidence in a way other people don’t always understand because, to them, it’s “just hair”.
But to you, it can feel like so much more.
So be kind to yourself. Talk about it. Ask questions. Get some help if you need it.
And remember that the woman looking back at you from that screen is still you.
Your hair may be changing. You haven’t lost yourself.
A few things I’ve learned along the way
- Find a knowledgeable hairdresser or a trichologist.
- Be gentle with your hair. Avoid excessive heat, very tight hairstyles and harsh treatments. Try not to tug at wet hair and treat your scalp kindly.
- Pay attention to what you eat. A balanced diet and good hydration matter far more than immediately buying every supplement the internet throws at you.
- And if the hair loss is significant or worrying you, get proper medical advice rather than relying on social media, adverts or online questionnaires.
Most importantly: Don’t shrink yourself.
Your hair is changing. You haven’t lost who you are.
‘Rapunzel’ | 65 | Staffordshire
Aphrodite’s Note
Thank you, Rapunzel, for sharing the good, the bad and the slightly alarming Teams-call moments with such honesty and humour. Hair loss can knock confidence in ways that are hard to explain, so every real story helps another woman feel a little less alone.
Minoxidil is available over the counter in the UK in topical forms including liquid, spray and foam, usually in 2% or 5% strengths. Oral minoxidil is also sometimes used for hair loss but requires medical supervision. Although you can buy topical minoxidil yourself, it’s still worth getting the cause of hair thinning assessed first, especially if the loss is sudden, patchy or significant, rather than assuming it is androgenetic alopecia.
Hair loss can feel deeply personal. It may be “just hair” to someone else, but when it changes the way you see yourself, it can knock your confidence far more than people realise.
What works for one woman won’t necessarily work for another, and hair thinning can have many different causes, (such as a simple lack of iron, a bad dose of the flu or even weight loss drugs) so it’s worth getting proper advice rather than disappearing down an internet rabbit hole of miracle cures and suspiciously glossy before-and-after photos.
And if you do find yourself staring at your reflection on a Teams call wondering when your parting got quite so enthusiastic, remember to: Ask questions. Get support. Experiment with what helps you feel like yourself again.
And yes, if that happens to include a fabulous hairpiece for a black-tie night out, Aphrodite is fully on board.
And a good place to start is the Hairdo range available at www.hothair.co.uk
