Yet, the fear was real, and it was a constant companion. This anxiety, I realized, was not just a personal struggle. It was a societal phenomenon, a pervasive force that gripped millions of people. It was a silent epidemic, a shadow that followed us everywhere, whispering doubts and anxieties into our ears.

It was shortly before my 47th birthday when I made my first trip to the doctor to describe this, and was prescribed the antidepressant, sertraline. It helped and I am not ashamed to say it still plays a part in my life. But other symptoms persisted, bouts of insomnia which only melatonin (which I stocked up on every time I went to the United States) helped. There was brain fog too. An urgent thing on my mind one second would vanish into thin air the next. The name of a colleague, something the children needed for school – poof! Gone. The brain fog sent me back to my GP, this time equipped with an invaluable piece of advice, which came from a chat with the sports presenter Gabby Logan, who made the ground-breaking assumption that, perhaps, as I could confidently list a number of the symptoms she had also experienced at a similar age, I could be perimenopausal. I feel rather foolish to admit, it was a penny-dropping moment.

As the editor-in-chief, I was responsible for the content and direction of the magazine. This included everything from the selection of photographs to the writing of articles, and the overall tone and style of the celebrity gossip. The magazine was a huge success, and I was proud of the work I had done.