Grief in Midlife: A Somatic Perspective on Letting Go

I often sit with women in midlife who arrive confused and upset. They might start with something like “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Many speak of irritability, flatness, tears that come from nowhere or a quiet loss of confidence that has snuck up on them over the last few years. They wonder whether it’s hormones, stress, or simply exhaustion.

Often, it’s a combination of these things. It’s also grief.

Not the same grief we associate with bereavement but a layered, complex grief that arises during the menopause transition. A grief for who we were, for what has changed and for what will never be.

Midlife asks us to reckon with endings. And our culture does not prepare us for that.

There is a particular ache that comes when we notice we are no longer the woman we once were.

We grieve our younger bodies. The elasticity of our skin, the easy stamina, the way we could stay up late, rise early and still function. We grieve the capacity to multitask without thinking, to spin many plates and somehow keep them all balanced.

Now, we cannot do quite as much. We cannot push through in the same way. Our nervous systems protest. Our energy dips. Our concentration wavers.

This is not weakness.

The body is recalibrating. Hormonal changes influence the brain, mood, memory and resilience. The old strategies of override and endurance no longer work. Yet instead of meeting this with compassion, many women turn against themselves.

“I used to be so capable.”
“I used to be fearless.”
“What’s happened to me?”

Underneath these thoughts is grief for the brave and capable young woman we remember being.

Grieving Missed Chances and Mistakes

Midlife also brings reflection. As the pace shifts, memories surface.

We think about the chances we did not take. The career moves postponed. The relationships we stayed in too long or left too soon. The words we wish we had said. The risks we were too frightened to take.

This is not self-indulgence. It is a developmental process.

In somatic work, we understand that unfinished emotional experiences remain in the body. They live as tightness in the chest, a sinking in the belly, a bracing in the jaw. During midlife, when life slows just enough, these old threads rise up asking to be felt.

If we try to silence them, they tend to intensify.

If we listen, gently, they begin to soften.

Image: Artem Kovalev

Grieving Changes in Relationships

Our relationships shift profoundly at this stage.

Friendships change as life paths diverge. Some deepen, others fall away. Intimate relationships may come under strain as both partners evolve. Long-standing patterns become less tolerable. We may realise we have outgrown roles we once inhabited without question.

And as mothers, there is a heartbreak that few speak about openly.

We spend years immersed in the daily intensity of raising children. Then, gradually or suddenly, they leave home. They need us differently. The house grows quieter.

We are proud. Of course we are proud.

And we grieve.

The identity of active mothering recedes. The rhythm changes. The body, which once carried, fed and soothed, now stands in a different place.

Grief and pride coexist.

Love and loss sit side by side.

Grieving Our Capacity

One of the most destabilising aspects of midlife is the shift in capacity.

We cannot sustain the same pace. We cannot commit to everything. We may find that our tolerance for noise, busyness and overcommitment shrinks dramatically.

Many women tell me they feel as though their confidence has evaporated. Tasks that once felt simple now feel daunting or we lack the motivation. Social situations can feel overwhelming. Decision-making becomes slower.

The temptation is to push harder. To soldier on. To berate ourselves for not keeping up.

Yet from a nervous system perspective, this is a moment that calls for regulation, not reprimand.

Your body is not failing you. It is renegotiating what is sustainable.

Grief as a Natural Part of the Menopause Transition

The menopause transition is not solely a biological event. It is psychological, relational and existential.

It marks the end of our reproductive years. For some women this brings relief. For others, sorrow. For many, both.

Endings stir grief. Even when the ending is welcome.

I prefer to view grief as a natural, healthy response to change. It is the body’s way of processing loss and reorganising around a new reality. When grief is allowed, it moves. It has a rhythm. It comes in waves and then recedes.

When grief is suppressed, it hardens. It becomes anxiety, numbness, irritability or depression.

We cannot bypass this stage. We cannot simply adopt a positive mindset and carry on.

We have to honour what is leaving.

Image: Philipp Cordts

A New Way of Looking at Ourselves

Midlife asks for a different relationship with ourselves.

In our twenties and thirties, many of us were fuelled by striving. Achievement. Proving. Doing.

In our forties and fifties, the invitation shifts towards integration. Acceptance. Being.

This does not mean giving up ambition or desire. It means recalibrating from self-criticism to self-compassion.

When grief arises, instead of asking, “What is wrong with me?” we might ask, “What is changing? What am I being asked to let go of?”

When fatigue or self-doubt sets in, instead of pushing through, we might pause and feel our feet on the ground. Notice our breath. Place a hand on the heart and acknowledge, “This is really hard.”

These small somatic acts signal safety to the nervous system. They create space for emotion to move without overwhelming us.

Honouring Rather Than Ignoring

So many women have been conditioned to endure. To be the reliable one. The strong one. The one who keeps everything together.

But midlife is not a time for endurance at all costs.

If we ignore our feelings, they will eventually demand attention. Through burnout. Through illness. Through breakdown.

Honouring our grief may look like:

• Allowing tears without explaining them away

• Speaking honestly with trusted friends

• Seeking therapeutic or somatic support

• Reducing commitments without apology

• Creating rituals to mark transitions

Grief honoured becomes wisdom.

A Final Thought

When we allow ourselves to grieve our younger selves, our missed chances, our changing bodies and relationships, something unexpected often happens.

We begin to meet the woman we are becoming.

She may be less frenetic, but she is more discerning.
Less accommodating, but more truthful.
Less endlessly energetic, but more attuned.

There is a quiet power in this stage of life. Not the power of constant doing, but the power of embodiment.

From a somatic perspective, midlife is not a decline. It is a reorganisation. A shedding of skins that no longer fit.

Grief is part of that shedding.

If you are in this season and find yourself tender, uncertain or wistful, you are not broken. You are transitioning.

And perhaps, beneath the grief, you are being invited into a deeper, kinder relationship with yourself than ever before.