Trusting what I know about myself

I remember talking to my therapist and naming something that felt both obvious and uncomfortable.

I’d completed an anxiety questionnaire. Based on the scoring, it suggested signs of high anxiety. On paper, that made sense. But I didn’t feel like I needed a diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety.  I found myself saying something that surprised even me.

“I understand why this points to anxiety,” I said, “but I don’t think that’s the full story. I think this is hormonal.”

I am deeply self aware. I have spent years doing inner work, reflecting, regulating, and paying attention to my emotional patterns. And yet lately, my mood shifts have felt different. More unpredictable. Less tethered to the version of myself I know well.

That didn’t mean the anxiety questionnaire was wrong. It meant it might be incomplete.

When awareness meets uncertainty

What made this moment tender was not denial. It was discernment.

I wasn’t trying to dismiss my emotional experience. I was trying to understand it accurately. I wanted to trust my self-assessment while also remaining open to feedback.

“I want to make sure I’m not overreactive,” I told her. “I want you to look at me through an objective lens.”

Because, there are real life situations that warrant frustration.

Microaggressions at work.
An insensitive partner.
Being talked over, minimized, or misunderstood.

Those experiences are not imagined. They are not neutral. They require an emotional response.

However, the question isn’t whether frustration exists. The question is whether my response feels proportionate, grounded, and aligned with who I am.

Wisdom that stayed with me

I often remember something my Godmother Lena Mae said to me years ago. She looked at me with the kind of calm that only comes from an older Black woman.

“Mable, make sure when you are judging a situation that you are mad at the right person, for the right thing, to the right degree.”

I never forgot those words.

They have guided me through conflict, disappointment, and hard conversations for decades. They helped me pause, assess, and respond rather than react. They gave me a framework for emotional integrity.

But lately, I’ve felt less certain. I’ve felt like I don’t want to judge and filter. I want to respond exactly how I feel.  I feel an underlying rage more than I use too.  It’s been interesting because I remember my mother being in her late 30’s and early forties and being impatient, rageful and aggressive.  I often feel like I judged her too harshly.  I realized once I learned more about perimenopause that she was probably in perimenopause.  And that she was probably dealing with chronic stress with increased cortisol and adrenaline.

When the internal compass feels off

What happens when the tool that has always worked starts to feel unreliable?

What happens when you know yourself well, but your emotional responses feel louder, faster, or more intense than before?

This is where many women find themselves in midlife.

Hormonal fluctuations during perimenopause affect the brain systems responsible for mood regulation, impulse control, and emotional processing. This does not erase context. It complicates it.

A real offense can feel amplified. A justified frustration can feel overwhelming. The line between proportionate response and hormonal intensity can blur.

And for women of color, this terrain is even more fraught.

We are often navigating environments where emotional expression is scrutinized. Where anger is misinterpreted. Where self regulation is expected without acknowledgment of provocation.

So we ask ourselves again and again, Is this me, or is this my body?

Wanting to be seen clearly

What I wanted from my therapist was not correction. I wanted  clarity.

I wanted space to explore whether my reactions were misaligned or whether my nervous system was simply operating under new conditions. I wanted to honor both my lived experience and the biological reality of midlife.

That is not indecision. That is wisdom.

Mental health in midlife is not about choosing between hormones or psychology. It is about understanding how they intersect.

Learning to hold complexity

What I am learning is this.

Self trust does not mean certainty at all times.
Awareness does not mean immunity from change.
Wisdom sometimes means reassessing the tools that once served us well.

The advice I received years ago still matters. I still ask myself if I am responding to the right person, for the right thing, to the right degree.

But now, I add another layer.

I ask how my body is influencing my perception. I ask what support my nervous system needs. I ask whether my emotions are asking to be managed, honored, or understood more deeply.

An invitation to reflect

If this resonates, pause for a moment.

Reflective question:
When you feel uncertain about your emotional responses, do you question your character, or do you allow space to consider what your body may be navigating?

You are allowed to trust yourself.
You are allowed to ask for objectivity.
You are allowed to evolve how you understand your emotions.

Sometimes clarity comes not from choosing one explanation, but from holding more than one truth at the same time.