Yes, it’s so normal. I remember sitting in my car wondering, “Who even am I anymore?” When your body changes, your identity feels like it’s shifting too. It’s more than just hot flashes—it’s a life transition. But here’s the thing: this fog passes, and you come out stronger, more centered, and clearer about what truly matters.

I hear you. I’ve been there too—heart racing, words stuck in my throat, and hours later still replaying the scene. What helped me was practicing short pauses. Even just taking a breath or saying, “I’ll respond to this later,” mentally. That little gap gave me space to choose peace over reaction. You’ll get better at it with time—it’s a skill, not a personality trait.

It’s so frustrating, right? I used to take that kind of behavior really personally, like maybe I had done something wrong. But over time, I realized most rudeness is about the other person, not you. Stress, insecurity, or even just having a bad day—people unload without realizing it. Doesn’t excuse it, but it helped me stop carrying their emotional baggage.

It used to drive me crazy. I’d be exhausted from work, only to hear thumping music or loud talking through the walls or windows. I tried to ignore it for weeks — thought maybe it was just a phase. But when it started messing with my mood and sleep, I left a calm note on their door. Not angry, just honest. It was awkward, but it worked. Most people don’t realize they’re being that loud — until you respectfully point it out.

It started small — once or twice a week. Then suddenly it was every day. They weren’t technically doing anything illegal, but it felt disrespectful. I left a short note on their windshield just saying I’d appreciate if they didn’t block access. When nothing changed, I talked to them directly. Turns out, they didn’t think it mattered. But once I explained how it impacted me, they stopped. People need to see things from your shoes — or they’ll never change their walk.