Paris, Menopause, and the Truth About Travelling Over 40

Let me be honest with you.

I went to Paris with a suitcase full of plans. 3 outfits a day. Statement dresses. Heels at every monument. Full makeup. Hair done. Book photoshoots in front of the Eiffel Tower. Content for days.

Here's what actually happened:

The heat hit me like nothing I've ever experienced. And I don't just mean Paris in August. I mean MENOPAUSE heat. The kind that starts from inside your body and doesn't care where you are — Pont Alexandre III, the Champs-Élysées, Disneyland — it doesn't care.

I sweated through outfits I hadn't even finished putting on. The heels? Stayed in the suitcase. Couldn't be bothered. The makeup? Minimum. Because what's the point of a full beat when your body is running its own furnace? The 3-outfits-a-day plan? Became 1 outfit and a prayer. The beautiful dress I packed to photograph my published books in Paris? Never made it out of the suitcase.

And you know what? I'm not ashamed of that.

Because nobody talks about this part. Nobody tells you that menopause doesn't pause for your holiday. It doesn't care about your content calendar. It doesn't respect your outfit plans. It shows up uninvited, turns your thermostat to maximum, and dares you to still enjoy your life.

So I did. In my simplest clothes. With minimal makeup. In flat shoes. Sweating. And I still walked the entire Champs-Élysées. Still stood at the Eiffel Tower at golden hour. Still watched my girls' faces light up at Disneyland. Still crossed a bridge made of gold. Still floated on a lake at sunset.

Menopause came to Paris with me. But it didn't stop me.

What We Actually Did in Paris

Despite the heat, despite my body working against me, we still managed to see an incredible amount of Paris in just five days. We visited Disneyland Paris (both parks — my daughter Zoee did 10 roller coasters while I survived one with my eyes closed), the Eiffel Tower at golden hour, Château de Vincennes (a 14th-century castle 5 minutes from our apartment), Pont Alexandre III (the most beautiful bridge in Paris), the Grand Palais, Petit Palais, the entire Champs-Élysées, the Paris Zoo, and even went rowing on Lac Daumesnil.

We drove past the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, the Cité des Sciences, and Les Invalides (where Napoleon is buried in six nested coffins beneath a golden dome). We ate Senegalese jollof rice at 11pm at Le Djoko restaurant. We window-shopped at La Vallée Village designer outlet.

The Menopause Conversation We Need to Have

To every woman reading this who knows exactly what I'm talking about — the hot flushes in meetings, the night sweats that ruin your sleep, the moments where your body feels like a stranger — I see you. You're not broken. You're not 'past it.' You're going through something that 50% of the population will experience, and yet we're still expected to pretend it's not happening.

Menopause affects 13 million women in the UK right now. It affects how we dress. How we sleep. How we work. How we travel. How we show up. And yet we're still expected to perform as if nothing is happening.

I wore flat shoes in Paris. I skipped the makeup. I sweated through my simplest outfits. And I still gave my daughters the holiday of their lives. Because the memories aren't about what you wore. They're about where you were. And who you were with.

The Lesson Paris Taught Me

Menopause doesn't make us less. It just means we're doing everything everyone else does — while our bodies run a marathon in the background. I took a whole box of clothes to Paris. I wore maybe a quarter of them. And I still had the trip of a lifetime.

To every parent reading this thinking 'one day' — make it this year. It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't have to be expensive. Our apartment was 26 square metres. We took Uber everywhere. We ate African food. We wore trainers. We got lost. We got tired. But we were THERE. Together. And that's everything.

If you're going through perimenopause or menopause and want support, explore my Women's Health Survival Series on Amazon, or connect with me through Felly Wellness. Because silence helps nobody.

Paris, merci. We'll be back.