Gina Broadhurst, 47, owns a roller shutter company with her husband Simon, 52. They live in Surrey with their daughter Genevieve, 11, and son Sterling, 10. She battled perimenopause symptoms, including anxiety, exhaustion and memory loss, for five years before starting HRT and deciding to set herself a new challenge.
When I went to bed after another tiring day at work, I buried my face in the pillow and sobbed my heart out. I had no idea why I was crying, but as the tears flowed, it felt like a release.
I was so sad. Tired of being tired, tired of feeling angry all the time, tired of feeling like a second rate version of myself. I couldn’t put my finger on why I was crying, but this had been going on for months. What the hell was wrong with me?
Until my early forties I was the epitome of health without any real ailments. I had a busy job in advertising sales, but I had a supportive husband and two lovely children. Life was pretty good.
But around age 41, I started experiencing intense, crushing headaches that drove me crazy. Painkillers didn’t help and I was also exhausted. I could sit in a chair and fall asleep in five minutes. I felt like an old woman in a nursing home.
Dealing with memory loss
When I went to my GP I told her my symptoms and she ended up writing ‘TATT’ on my notes – ‘Tired all the time’. She took a blood test to see if it was menopause, but because these blood tests only tell if you’re in menopause — not perimenopause — the results didn’t give any real answers. My doctor said my symptoms were probably due to the stress of work. I had to slow down.
I started getting intense, crushing headaches that were driving me crazy.
I left feeling discouraged because I had no answer. My symptoms got worse. I started forgetting words – very simple things like ‘chair’ or ‘cup’. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring the word to mind and I started to worry that I was developing early dementia. My joints started to ache, my skin developed rosacea, and I even developed pimples – something I never even had as a teenager.
Of course, I know now that these are all classic symptoms of perimenopause, but at the time I had no idea. Even just seven years ago, the discussion around menopause was nothing like it is today. I just thought I was going crazy.
My symptoms got worse. I started forgetting words – very simple things like ‘chair’ or ‘cup’.
I left my ad sales job in 2018 and started working with my husband in his company, which smoothed things out a bit. But the symptoms remained. The anger I experienced was disturbing. The most trivial thing would send me flying.
Start HRT
Things came to a head late last year when I contacted my GP and said, “I can’t deal with this anymore, I think I’m going crazy and I have to do something!”
I was previously told I couldn’t take HRT because of a rare blood disorder which could make me more likely to get blood clots. I discovered this when I was trying to get pregnant and was still in hospital under a gynae team. But during a conversation with a new doctor on that team I discovered that I was actually allowed to have HRT, just not certain types, so I was given estrogen and progesterone patches.
I could not believe it. Finally, I might get something to relieve the symptoms. But for some reason – including the fact that they lost my referral from the hospital team – it took over five months to get the prescription. That’s why I contacted my GP that day, full of anger, and told the operating room that I was literally going to do a ‘sit-in’ if they didn’t get that prescription to me straight away.
I started HRT earlier this year and the change was almost immediate. My headaches improved, my mood became more even, I no longer felt like I was walking around on cotton wool.
The GP agreed that something had gone wrong and would help me get the HRT as soon as possible.
I started HRT earlier this year and the change was almost immediate. My headaches improved, my mood became more even, I no longer felt like I was walking around on cotton wool. I started to find my words again. My skin improved, my joints no longer hurt. I also started taking other supplements, such as collagen and menopause vitamins, and my confidence returned. I felt more at peace with myself.
A powerful new project
A month later I was chatting via Instagram with the regional director who runs the Miss Surrey pageants. I jokingly said something to her like, “I’m about twenty years too old for you,” and she replied, “No, you would be great for the Classic Division, which features older women.”
It planted the seed of an idea. I decided to ask three people – my mother, my husband and my sister – if I should go for it, expecting them to say no. But they didn’t. My sister’s answer especially moved me. She lost her husband to brain cancer and she said to me, “Yes, take every opportunity to do what life has to offer,” so I decided to apply to Miss GB. I created a series of Instagram live videos called Live For Now to help women like me feel more empowered and confident.
Miss Great Britain isn’t about being the most beautiful woman, it’s about being the best version of yourself and feeling so terrible for so many years. This is the message I wanted to convey. I had felt like a shadow of myself in my early to mid-40s, so I wanted to prove that it wasn’t too late for anyone to shine again.
I had felt like a shadow of myself in my early to mid-40s, so I wanted to prove that it wasn’t too late for anyone to shine again.
I decided to invest some time in ‘myself’. I had never been on a catwalk before, so I hired a coach to help me present myself to the audience and judges. I threw myself into fundraising for charity and even abseiled off a building and climbed Scafell Pike to raise money.
I have worked a lot on my self-confidence, including visualizing myself as a winner. I bought small items for myself, like necklaces with crowns on them, hoping to score a victory.
The big day
But going on stage in October in a theater full of 600 people was still terrifying. I remember standing backstage in the wings, wearing a gold jumpsuit, watching the other women walk out and thinking, “What have I given myself into?”
The competition lasts two days and includes not only clothing and fashion, but also interviews with a jury. The moment I was dreading – the swimwear round – was actually one of my favorite moments. There were women of all ages and sizes there: a woman in her eighties with pink hair and a Muslim woman in a completely modest dress. It was incredibly liberating. Just a year earlier, I had anxiety attacks about even leaving the house. Now I was parading in a bikini in front of strangers.
Standing on stage in a theater full of 600 people in October was still terrifying. I remember standing backstage in the wings and thinking, ‘What have I given myself up to?’
On the last day when my name was announced as the winner, I could barely speak because I was so shocked. But what excited me most were the looks on my children’s faces. I could see them in the audience. They were so invested in ‘mom’s new hobby’ that they went crazy when I won. I was in heaven.
Spreading a positive message
In addition to the crown and title, I won a £500 travel voucher, a £1000 voucher to spend at an aesthetic clinic and a photo shoot. But for me it wasn’t about the prices. It was about doing something I never thought I would do, getting out of my comfort zone and having one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.
I did what I wanted to do, which was to show other women my age that life isn’t over when you hit perimenopause.
I now hold the title until October next year, appearing at events such as switching on the local Christmas lights. It’s all in good fun and I don’t take myself seriously. The kids love it when I put on my crown and ‘Queen Mode’ is activated.
But I did what I wanted to do, which was to show other women my age that life isn’t over when you hit perimenopause. But it’s important that women recognize what’s going on with their bodies and insist that doctors listen to them and get help. This stage of life can take away from your self-confidence, but it doesn’t have to be that way – and hopefully I’m proof of that.