Hello

I’m Sammy — Southern-born, North East-based, happily married, dog-obsessed, menopause-aware, and usually one mildly inconvenient comment away from saying what everyone else is thinking.

I’m the founder of That’ll Be Menopause — a community-led space built on honest conversation, evidence-informed support, practical education, and the occasional rude word when only a rude word will do.

Today, I’m a community founder, advocate, speaker, writer, student, campaigner and menopause educator. I create spaces for real talk, proper belly laughs, practical support, and conversations that help people feel seen, heard and taken seriously.

My approach is simple:

No shame. No silence. No nonsense.

I don’t do medical jargon for the sake of sounding clever. I don’t believe in whispering around the messy bits. We talk about the things people are often embarrassed to mention — mood, rage, libido, relationships, brain fog, work, identity, confidence, and the days when you feel like you’ve completely lost yourself.

And we don’t only support people experiencing menopause.

We educate partners, men, managers, workplaces and anyone else who needs to understand that common does not mean trivial.

I’m especially passionate about in-person support because online community is powerful — but sometimes people need a room, a brew, a chair, and another human being saying, “Same. You’re not on your own.”

Through local support groups, coffee afternoons, community partnerships, press features and radio conversations, I’m working towards support in every pocket and every postcode.

I’m not here as a perfect expert on a pedestal.

I’m here as a woman who has lived the lonely bit, the messy bit, the dismissed bit, and the starting-again bit — and came out determined to build something better for everyone coming behind me.

I am the kind of woman who will say what everyone is thinking.

And if that helps someone feel seen, understood, validated, amused, or even just a little less alone?

Then that’s exactly why I’m here.

My Story

Menopause did not arrive quietly for me.

It wasn’t a gentle “change of life” moment with linen trousers, herbal tea and serene acceptance. It hit hard. It affected my mood, my mind, my confidence, my relationships, my work, and my sense of who I was.

At the time, I was working in offender management within the male prison service — a tough, demanding environment where you learn quickly how to read a room, hold your nerve, and spot bullshit from fifty paces.

But behind the strength I was showing the world, I was struggling.

I became exhausted, overwhelmed and mentally unwell. My symptoms were minimised. My menopause was dismissed. Properly dismissed. The kind of dismissal that makes you question yourself when what you really need is someone to look you in the eye and say, “You’re not imagining it.”

I have never felt so lonely.

Eventually, I had to seek private treatment just to be properly heard. That experience changed me. It broke parts of me, yes — but it also revealed a strength I genuinely didn’t know I had.

After moving from the South to the North East — partly for love, partly for a calmer life, and partly because sometimes your mind, body and soul need a complete change of scenery — I began rebuilding.

My husband’s home county became my new home. A softer pace, a different landscape, two beloved dogs, Jack the cocker spaniel and Harley the shih tzu, and a marriage I’m deeply proud of became part of my foundation.

And then came reinvention.

I returned to full-time education, which took more courage than I expected. I trained in menopause wellness coaching, gained a diploma, and continue to study women’s midlife health because I believe lived experience matters — but so does proper education, evidence-informed support, and knowing when to say, “Let’s get you the right help.”

That’ll Be Menopause grew from all of that.

Not from a perfect business plan written with candles lit and a green smoothie on the side. Absolutely not.

It came from lived reality, rage, grief, humour, loneliness, and the fierce belief that nobody should have to navigate menopause feeling invisible, dismissed or alone.