I thought my mum was "too much." Now I know she was going through menopause.

I thought she was being difficult. The truth is, she was going through something none of us understood.

Dear Mum,

I owe you an apology… a big one.

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I've been thinking about you a lot lately.

Lying awake at night, exhausted but unable to sleep, all I can think is that I didn't understand you.

Back then, I just thought you were going through 'the change' as you called it, but I had no idea what that was.

I'm sorry for when you'd get emotional, frustrated or distant or when you would snap at Dad over the smallest things, and I'd sit there thinking, "Why is she overreacting?" I didn't see what was underneath it. I remember how Dad would want to take you out on weekends — go somewhere, do something together — and you would decline.

I'm sorry I never understood, and here I have mirror-imaged you and now get it.

All you wanted to do was stay at home, to be in your garden. That was your place, your sanctuary, your peace. When you would go water the garden, we knew to leave you alone; it was your time.

I'm sorry for not understanding that; I thought you were being selfish. Like you didn't want to try and you were pulling away. I remember going shopping with you as mother and daughter and nothing felt right or fit the way it used to. And I'm sorry I didn't get it at the time.

I'm sorry I didn't understand why you would get upset or why you'd just give up and not want to go shopping with me. Something that I thought was supposed to be special would end up with frustration which would hurt me, but I never looked at you and your perspective.

But now I do.

I now understand that feeling of not recognising your own body, of nothing sitting the same and losing confidence in something that once felt easy.

Because this is the part that really sits heavy with me. There I was going through my own hormone changes with my firstborn baby and, at the same time, you were going through yours. But neither of us saw the other. I'm sorry you weren't seen, nor were you heard. Dad didn't understand you and, if I'm honest, neither did I.

I'm sorry I thought you were being difficult. Distant and stubborn to say the least. I remember thinking, "Why is she like this?" And I hate that I thought that. But I didn't stop to think about what you might have been feeling and what was actually going on inside you.

Now I'm here, living this thing called farking Menopause. And everything makes sense in a way it never did before. The emotions don't match my moods, the exhaustion that sits deep with no sleep, the brain fog and that feeling of not quite being myself.

And that's the part no one talks about enough!

I'm sorry I didn't realise how confusing it must have been for you, to feel like your body and mind were changing without anyone explaining why, all while still showing up as a mother and a fresh grandmother.

I'm sorry there was no education, no real conversations and mostly no support. I can't see Baba (grandmother) sitting you down to explain what it was. This was something you had to figure out on your own. Especially in a cultural background where communication was silenced. You were just expected to get on with it. And you did.

Now, being in this stage of life, I see you differently. I see your strength. How you kept showing up for all of us, even when you probably didn't feel like yourself. I see you when you had a stroke in my arms at the same age as me now, and you treated it like it was nothing, going to Europe a few days later because you wanted to show up for your mum.

I see the patience I didn't give you growing up as a teen and adult. I'm sorry we clashed at times and for not being more understanding.

If I could go back, I'd sit with you more, I'd listen and hold you instead of banging heads with you. And what you were going through was real.

And now, as a mum myself, it makes me think so much about my own daughters and how I show up for them. How I speak to them about this stage of life, and how I make sure they understand what I never did. This also applies to my son and how he can be supportive of his partner and not go blindsided like Pip, my husband, did.

I want them to see me and understand me and to know this is something we can talk about.

And this is the reason I wrote my book " Wendy Talks Menopause" — I don't have the answers. I'm not a doctor but I don't want this to stay unspoken.

I get it now, Mum, I really do, and I'm truly sorry it took me this long to understand.

I love you

Wendy xx

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Wendy Naumovski is the author of Wendy Talks Menopause , using her own story to challenge how we understand menopause across generations. Follow Wendy at www.wendythebrand/wendy-the-book .

Feature Image: Supplied.

'Now I'm going through menopause, I owe my mum a big apology.'

Wendy Naumovski