5 Things I Wish I'd Known Before Treatment-Induced Menopause
- Kiren Sehmi BSc. (Hons.) FBDO CL

- Nov 17, 2025
- 4 min read
When my doctor said my treatment would cause menopause, I nodded as if I understood. I thought it meant a few hot flushes. I was wrong.
I thought it would creep up on me slowly, but the moment I started chemotherapy, it hit me. It wasn't just physical—it was emotional. I assumed it was just the overwhelming feeling of having cancer and the whole rat race of getting through my treatment each week. But this was different. It had started.
The medical team was absolutely fantastic, but what they didn't tell me was how abrupt it would be.
So, if you've just been told the same thing, here's what I wish I'd known.

#1: It Happens Faster (and Hits Harder) Than You Expect
I had assumed treatment-induced menopause would be gradual, like turning down a dimmer switch. It wasn't.
In reality, it felt like someone flipped the switch overnight.
It started with the classic hot flushes; those were to be expected. Then came bone ache, which I assumed was due to the Epirubicin, phesgo, and paclitaxel. Slowly, through the weeks ahead, came brain fog, mood swings, and night sweats. After treatment finished, dry skin, hair loss, and skin irritation were added to the list. As if losing your hair at the beginning of treatment wasn't hard enough, the anxiety of it all happening again hit hard.
Menopause after cancer happens due to the rapid drop in oestrogen after chemotherapy, radiation, or hormone therapy. For me, my periods stopped immediately—no warning, no gradual tapering off.
The night sweats were brutal. I started sleeping in cotton pyjamas, kept ice water by the bed, and ran a fan all night. Small changes, but they helped me actually sleep.
I also kept a journal to track what triggered the worst symptoms. Turned out my hot flushes followed the same pattern my mum's did—apparently that runs in families.
And that was just the beginning—the emotional side caught me off guard too.
#2: It's Not Just Physical—It Messes With Your Emotions
Each moment from waking felt like a lucky dip—an emotional rollercoaster. The unexpected mood swings, tears, and irritability became who I was for months. The smallest things set me off—someone breathing too loudly, the kids screaming. I couldn't keep my cool. I found myself constantly shouting, turning into the angry person I never wanted to be. I was so far from the calm, loving person I once was. Where was she? Had she disappeared forever?
I was wrong about that too. The hormonal and psychological changes my body was going through were monumental. With the change in hormone levels coupled with the trauma of fighting cancer, my body was trying its best to stay above water.
I also realized I was grieving. I would never be able to have another child. That chance was now gone. Don't get me wrong—having two children was a blessing, and to be honest, I was done! But now it was final. I was officially "getting old." That clock had officially stopped.
There's no way around it—you have to make peace with what's happening. Therapy helped. So did talking to other women going through the same thing. There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a perfectly normal occurrence, and others can sympathize, sharing tips and tricks to get you through.
Remember: you are not losing your mind. Your hormones are in chaos, and it will settle.
Once I learned to ask for help instead of powering through, things started to shift.

#3: There Are Ways to Feel Better
At first, I thought I had to continue as I was. What more could I take? The treatment was already putting my body through so much. Could it handle any more? But then I discovered there were non-hormonal and lifestyle tools I could use that would ease the suffering.
Small changes helped: a yoga class, a fan in the bedroom to keep it cool at night, deep breathing for hot flushes, keeping my vitamin D levels up, and walking daily.
Depending on your cancer type, HRT can also sometimes be an option. If this is something you want to explore, contact your doctors and medical team to ask if it's a safe option for you.
For me, it wasn't about fixing everything. I needed to feel human again, and these things helped me do that.
Relief doesn't come all at once—it sneaks in through the small things you do every day.
#4: Sex and Body Confidence Take a Hit—But They Come Back
No one tells you this part: your sex life takes a hit. Between the hormone crash, the physical changes, and everything else I was dealing with, intimacy became complicated. Low libido, dryness, pain—it's all normal, and it's all fixable.
It may be worth talking to your team if you're concerned about this. Lubricants and vaginal moisturizers can be a huge help. Most of all, open conversation with your partner is key.
Once I stopped blaming myself and started talking about it, I realized intimacy can evolve—it can even get better.
I spoke to various charities that offer valuable resources for women struggling with this, and they were a huge help. There was no shame or embarrassment, just honest advice.
But there was one more thing I didn't expect—how much strength I'd find in all of this.
#5: You'll Become Stronger, Wiser—Still You, But Better
I learned to listen to my body instead of fighting it.
I started reclaiming joy—morning walks, reconnecting with my friends, and feeling gratitude for what my body had endured. I was learning how to live well after treatment-induced menopause.
Yes, menopause after cancer changes you, but it doesn't define you. I started to see this not as an ending, but as a recalibration.

What I'd Tell Another Woman
If you've just been told that treatment will cause menopause, take a breath.
Remember: it's manageable, and there is help out there.
You'll cry, you'll adapt, and one day you'll realize you did it. You rebuilt yourself in ways you never thought possible.
The people behind charities like Macmillan, Future Dreams, and Menopause Matters are amazing. They offer resources, support groups, and podcasts that can help you navigate this frustratingly normal time.
You've already done the hard part—surviving. Now it's time to live well!

