
Here’s what nobody tells you about midlife: it doesn’t just mess with your body and your brain. It messes with every single relationship in your life.
And if you want to strengthen your relationships during life transitions, you need to understand that it’s about way more than just your romantic partnership.
Your friendships feel off, your parents suddenly need more from you, your kids are dealing with their own shit while you’re barely holding it together. If you’re in a relationship, your partner might not recognize this version of you and If you’re single, the loneliness can hit differently now.
And your relationship with yourself?
That one’s probably the most complicated of all.
On top of it, you learn very quickly that you need to pull back from people who aren’t giving as much energy to the relationship as you are. You don’t have the bandwidth for one-sided connections anymore.
Most articles about “relationships during life transitions” are really just about marriage. How to keep the spark alive, how to communicate better with your spouse, how to navigate change as a couple.
But what if you’re not partnered? What if your marriage just ended? What if you’re in a relationship but that’s not the relationship that’s struggling right now?
Let’s talk about all of it. The friendships that suddenly feel wrong, the aging parents who need you, the kids who are watching you go through this, the romantic relationships (or lack thereof), and the messy, complicated relationship you have with yourself right now.
You used to text her every day. You had inside jokes and shared everything. But lately? The conversations feel forced. She doesn’t really get what you’re going through, and you’re starting to realize you might not have as much in common as you thought.
Or maybe it’s the whole friend group. The women you’ve known for years through school pickups and sports practices. They’re still talking about the same things, living the same lives, and you’re over here questioning everything about your existence.
It’s disorienting as hell.
Here’s what’s actually happening: you’re changing. Perimenopause and midlife don’t just change your body—they change your values, your priorities, what you’re willing to tolerate, and what you actually give a shit about.
As I talk about in my article on feeling lost in your 40s, midlife often brings a craving for authenticity. You start wanting friends who can handle the real you, not the version who pretends everything’s fine.
Some friendships will deepen through this. The ones where you can be honest about the fact that you cried in the Target parking lot for no reason, or that you’re questioning everything about your life, or that you’re so tired of pretending you have it together.
Other friendships will fade. And that’s okay, even though it hurts.
Get honest with yourself about what you actually need from friendships right now. Do you need people who can sit with heavy emotions without trying to fix them? People who make you laugh when everything feels heavy? People who get the hormonal chaos you’re experiencing?
Stop forcing connections that don’t feel good anymore. If spending time with someone leaves you feeling drained or misunderstood, it’s okay to let that friendship naturally fade. You don’t owe anyone your energy just because you’ve been friends for years.
For the friendships you want to keep, be direct. Say things like “I’m going through some intense changes right now and I need friends who can handle me being real instead of fine.” Good friends will appreciate the honesty.
And if you’re feeling lonely in this transition? That’s normal. Loneliness is often the space between who you were and who you’re becoming. New friendships that fit this version of you are coming.
Let’s talk about what it’s like to be squeezed between kids who still need you and aging parents who suddenly need you differently—all while your hormones are staging a hostile takeover of your body and brain.
Your mom calls three times a day with the same questions. Your dad can’t figure out his medications. Someone needs to coordinate doctor’s appointments and research assisted living facilities and make decisions about care.
And guess who gets to do all of it? You.
Meanwhile, you’ve got kids at home who need rides and help with homework and emotional support through their own transitions. You’re trying to maintain some kind of career. You’re dealing with night sweats and brain fog and mood swings. And everyone just expects you to handle it all because you always have.
The mental load is crushing. And the worst part? Most of it is invisible.
First, stop trying to do it all alone. I know you’re good at handling everything, but “good at it” doesn’t mean you should have to. Ask your siblings to step up. Hire help if you can. Let things be imperfect.
Set boundaries with your parents about what you’re available for. You can love them deeply and still say “I can’t talk right now, I’ll call you back tonight.” You can care about their wellbeing and still limit how much of your day is consumed by their needs.
If you have siblings, have direct (possibly uncomfortable) conversations about dividing responsibilities. Don’t let the default be that you handle everything just because you’re the daughter or the organized one or the one who lives closest.
Communicate clearly with your kids about what’s happening. They don’t need all the details, but they can handle age-appropriate honesty about why you’re stressed or distracted. It models that it’s okay to have limits.
Find support outside your family. Whether it’s therapy, a support group, or friends who get it, you need people who can hold space for how hard this is without needing anything from you in return.
Here’s a fun paradox: you’re going through one of the most disorienting transitions of your life, and your kids are watching.
They’re watching you snap at small things because your patience is shot. They’re noticing when you’re distracted or overwhelmed. They can tell something’s different, even if they don’t know what.
And you’re trying to hold it together for them while also dealing with night sweats, brain fog, mood swings, and an identity crisis about who you are beyond “mom.”
It’s a lot.
If your kids are younger, they might not understand what’s happening but they can sense your stress. If they’re teens, they’ve got their own hormone chaos happening and everyone in the house is a disaster.
Be honest (in age-appropriate ways) about what you’re going through. You don’t need to overshare, but saying “my body is going through some changes that make me more tired and grumpy sometimes, and that’s not your fault” can help them understand.
Apologize when you snap or overreact. Model that adults make mistakes and can take responsibility. “I’m sorry I yelled about the dishes. I was overwhelmed and took it out on you, and that wasn’t fair.”
Create small rituals of connection that don’t require you to be at 100%. Movie nights where you just sit together. Car rides where you listen to their music. Quick check-ins before bed. Connection doesn’t have to be elaborate.
Ask for what you need from them. “I need 20 minutes of quiet when I get home” or “Can you handle dinner tonight? I’m wiped out” teaches them that parents have needs too.
Let them see that you’re figuring things out. You don’t have to have all the answers or be perfect. They benefit from seeing you navigate uncertainty and come out the other side.
Whether you’re partnered, single, divorced, or dating, romantic relationships during this phase are complicated as hell.
If you’re in a long-term relationship, your partner might not recognize this version of you. You’re different—your body, your moods, your needs, your whole identity is shifting. Some partners will adjust and grow with you. Others will struggle with the changes or want you to go back to being the person you were.
If you’re newly single (whether by choice or not), navigating the world as a single woman in midlife brings its own challenges. The loneliness can be intense, especially when it feels like everyone else is partnered up. Dating in your 40s is a mindfuck. And sometimes you’re just grieving the life you thought you’d have.
As I discuss in my guide on choosing single life, being unpartnered in midlife isn’t always a choice, but how you respond to it can be.
Talk about what’s changing. Don’t expect your partner to figure it out or read your mind. Be direct: “My body is doing weird things and it’s affecting my mood, my energy, my desire for sex. Here’s what I need from you.”
Set boundaries around what you need. If you need alone time to decompress, say so, if you need more support with household stuff, ask for it, and if you need them to stop taking your mood swings personally, explain it.
Accept that you might need different things from the relationship now than you did before. That’s not a failure. That’s evolution.
Give yourself permission to grieve whatever you thought this phase would look like. It’s okay to be sad or angry that you’re navigating this alone when you didn’t plan to be.
Build a support system that isn’t contingent on romantic partnership. Friends, family, therapy, community—these connections matter just as much (sometimes more) than romantic ones.
Stop apologizing for being single. You don’t need to explain or justify your relationship status to anyone, including yourself.
If you want partnership, be honest about that. If you’re good being single, own that too. Either way, you get to decide what your life looks like.
If you have siblings, midlife often brings a reckoning about how family responsibilities get divided—especially when it comes to aging parents.
And let’s be real: it’s rarely divided equally.
One sibling (often the daughter, often the one who lives closest, often you) ends up doing the bulk of the work. The others mean well but somehow aren’t as available. Or they have “opinions” about what should happen but don’t actually help make it happen.
It can breed resentment fast.
Have direct conversations early. Don’t wait until you’re drowning to say something. “Here’s what Mom and Dad need. Here’s what I can realistically do. What can you handle?”
Be specific about dividing tasks. “I’ll handle medical appointments if you handle financial stuff” or “Can you take every other weekend so I get a break?”
Accept that equal doesn’t always mean identical. Maybe one sibling can’t do hands-on care but can contribute financially. Maybe someone can’t visit often but can make daily phone calls. Figure out what works.
Set boundaries about what you will and won’t do. Just because you’re capable of handling everything doesn’t mean you should have to.
Be prepared for some siblings to step up and others to disappoint you. It sucks, but it’s often reality.

Here’s the relationship that gets the least attention: your relationship with yourself.
After years of being everything to everyone—parent, daughter, employee, friend, partner (maybe), caregiver—you might not actually know who you are anymore.
Your body feels foreign. Your moods are unpredictable. Your priorities are shifting. The things that used to define you don’t fit anymore.
And underneath all of it is this question: who am I now?
It’s terrifying. It’s also an opportunity.
Start with curiosity instead of judgment. Instead of beating yourself up for not knowing who you are, get curious about discovering it. What actually matters to you now? What lights you up? What pisses you off? What do you want?
Create space for solitude. Not loneliness, but intentional time alone without an agenda or performance. Take yourself on dates. Sit with your thoughts. Walk. Journal. Just be.
Stop performing for an invisible audience. You don’t need to be impressive or have it figured out or be the person everyone expects. You can be messy and uncertain and still worthwhile.
Practice talking to yourself the way you’d talk to a friend. You deserve that same compassion from yourself.
Consider therapy or joining a group like my midlife women’s process group, where you can explore these questions with other women asking the same things.
If it feels like every relationship in your life is in flux right now, you’re not imagining it.
When you start changing—setting boundaries, prioritizing your needs, showing up authentically—it creates a ripple effect. Every relationship adjusts to this new version of you.
Some people will love this more authentic you. Some will resist and try to pull you back into old patterns. Some will fade away because the relationship was built on you being someone you’re not anymore.
All of this is normal. All of this is okay.
You’re not being selfish by having needs. You’re not being difficult by changing. You’re not being unreasonable by expecting people to adjust.
You’re just becoming more aligned with who you actually are.
No matter what relationships you’re navigating right now, here are some universal truths:
Communicate what’s happening. Don’t expect people to read your mind. “I’m going through a rough transition and I might not be as available” gives context.
Ask for what you need. Space, support, someone to just listen—whatever it is, say it out loud.
Show up when you have capacity. Relationships are reciprocal. Even during your own crisis, find small ways to be present for people who matter.
Let some relationships change or end. Not every connection is meant to last forever, and that’s okay.
Invest where there’s mutual effort. Put your energy into relationships where both people are showing up, not ones where you’re doing all the work.
Be honest about your limits. You can’t be everything to everyone. It’s okay to scale back.
Sometimes navigating relationship changes requires help. That’s not weakness—that’s wisdom.
Consider therapy if you’re feeling isolated or lonely despite having people around, having the same conflicts in multiple relationships, feeling resentful or burnt out from caregiving, unable to set boundaries without massive guilt, or questioning your identity outside your roles.
My practice specializes in helping midlife women navigate exactly these transitions. We work on understanding who you are beyond your roles, setting boundaries without the guilt spiral, managing the emotional chaos of changing relationships, and building a life that actually feels like yours.
Midlife transitions shake up every relationship you have. Your friendships shift. Family dynamics change. Romantic relationships evolve or end. Your relationship with yourself needs attention.
This isn’t a crisis. It’s a recalibration.
The relationships that matter will adapt as you do. The ones that don’t will fall away. New connections that fit this version of you will emerge.
You don’t need to have it all figured out right now. You just need to keep showing up honestly—for others and for yourself.
Life transitions can turn your relationships upside down, whether it’s with your kids, your parents, your friends, or even yourself. But here’s the good news: you don’t have to figure it all out solo.
Let’s sit down and talk about what you’ve been going through. No judgment, no rushing you out the door — just a conversation with someone who truly gets it.
Book your free consultation here →
Not quite ready to chat one-on-one? Grab my free guide, “Is It Perimenopause or Am I Losing My Mind?” and join other women who are navigating these changes and doing life their way.
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