Attention Allies psychotherapists Lottie Storey and Claire Wirsig explore the links between ADHD/AuDHD, perimenopause and hypersensitivity. Inspired by their conversations and reading, Lottie and Claire examine the ‘blurse’ of hypersensitivity: the blessings of stronger boundaries and self-advocacy alongside the curse of a world that can suddenly feel too bright, too loud and simply too much.
Photo by Paul Blenkhorn on Unsplash
For many ADHD and AuDHDers, coping with sensory differences is nothing new. For many of us, there are days when the lights are too bright, public spaces too loud and the tag in your t-shirt feels like an instrument of torture. Studies suggest that sensory processing difficulties affect over 90% of Autistic adults, for example (Crane et al., 2009).
During perimenopause, our sensory threshold lowers, thanks to increased somatic symptoms (e.g., hot flushes, sleep disruption, migraine) that reduce stress tolerance. All of this means that the volume can suddenly seem to get turned up on the sensations we once managed, tolerated or simply pushed through, leaving us feeling depleted and more prone to meltdowns, shutdowns and burnout.
The links between neurodivergence, perimenopause and hypersensitivity are beginning to gain traction. While there is still a lot we don’t know, we do know that hormonal fluctuations can affect our sensory systems. Estrogen receptors are present in the ears, and the sensitivity of our auditory, visual and olfactory systems can be affected by monthly hormonal fluctuations (Moseley, 2026). For ADHD and AuDHDers who can already experience the world differently, these changes can make an intense sensory landscape considerably more intense.
ADHD/AuDHD and sensory differences
Sensory differences tend to fall into three broad categories. Hyposensitivity means being less sensitive to certain sensations – perhaps not noticing when someone calls your name during a period of hyperfocus. Hypersensitivity is the opposite: sensations can feel unusually strong or overwhelming, such as lighting being so uncomfortable that you need to leave the room. Alongside the above, there is sensory-seeking, actively enjoying or seeking out certain textures, sounds, movements or other sensations, such as enjoying the feel of a fluffy cushion or the way it feels to say particular words (Moseley, 2026).
Many ADHD and AuDHDers experience a mixture of all three. We can seek out one sensation while desperately trying to escape another. And what feels good, neutral or unbearable can change depending on the day, environment and – it seems – our hormones.
When the sensory volume gets turned up
We each have a unique sensory profile but here are some examples of how sensory hypersensivity might be experienced across the five senses:
1. Sight
Sensory input via the eyes can become a particular challenge during perimenopause. Cold or artificial lighting, a single exposed bulb or a bright light contrasting against darkness can feel distracting, almost impossible to ignore or even painful. Sunglasses in the supermarket might become an essential rather than a fashion choice. We might move seats to avoid facing a light or, when the lighting feels particularly obnoxious, need to leave altogether.
2. Sound
Noise can be equally intrusive. An ambulance passing might mean instinctively covering our ears – rather inconvenient when driving. In a café, there may be music playing, conversations at neighbouring tables, the coffee machine grinding and someone scraping a chair across the floor, while we are simultaneously trying to hear what the person opposite us is saying. Earplugs can become invaluable.
3. Smell
A heightened sense of smell can be distressing and difficult to live with, particularly when others seem unbothered. Lottie remembers walking in a park around 50 metres behind someone drinking a can of Monster and being able to smell its distinctive flavour, even from so far away. Being able to smell dirty clothes or musty home furnishings is distracting and interrupts what should be quiet restorative time at home.
4. Taste
Foods we previously enjoyed might suddenly taste different, one day loving olives and the next day finding them too salty. The knock-on effect on us and those around us when we can no longer tolerate foods we usually love shouldn’t be underestimated.
5. Touch
Clothing can turn against us: seams itch, labels scratch and particular fabrics elicit a visceral response: absolutely not. Bed sheets that feel rough turn us into the princess and the pea. Fabrics or surfaces that we do like can become more important than ever as they help regulate our frazzled nervous systems.
These experiences are not mildly irritating - they can be genuinely debilitating. We cannot necessarily ‘just ignore it’, despite how inconvenient it may be. Our brain is receiving the sensation loudly and persistently and filtering it into the background may simply not be an option available to us. It’s not easy to communicate to those around us that things have changed so much and that we may not be able to do the things we could pre-perimenopause.
The perimenopausal, sensory ‘blurse’
And yet, perimenopause can be something of a blurse: part blessing, part curse.
For some of us, the perimenopausal stage of life brings a growing firmness in our beliefs and a greater willingness to advocate for ourselves. Boundaries become clearer. The pressure to perform, mask or behave in ways that make other people comfortable can begin to loosen. We might care rather less about what other people think. The curse is that, at precisely the point we become less willing to tolerate unnecessary discomfort, our sensory experiences may become stronger too. Perhaps, though, these two things can work together.
From ‘what’s wrong with me?’ to ‘what do I need?’
The voice of internalised ableism can trigger self-blame, particularly when we can no longer tolerate the things that were possible before. But you don’t win any prizes for endurance here, particularly when the impact of trying to push through leaves us so depleted.
There is no universal toolkit for sensory sensitivities during perimenopause. We are far too individual and complex for that. Something soothing for one person may be intolerable to another, and our own needs can change from one day to the next.
Perhaps the most useful strategy, then, is not another list of things we should be doing. It is learning to notice what is happening and responding to ourselves accordingly. Instead of asking, Why can’t I cope with this anymore? Why can’t I just ignore it? We can try a different question:
Knowing what I know about myself, and knowing what it’s like for me right now, what do I need to do to look after myself?
It’s about figuring out what accommodations we need and finding ways to advocate for ourselves. Sometimes the answer will be earplugs; sometimes it’s sunglasses, and sometimes it will simply be giving ourselves permission to leave. The biggest permission we need to give ourselves, though, is permission to change and make the changes we need to get through this challenging time.
References
Crane, L., Goddard, L., & Pring, L. (2009). ‘Sensory processing in adults with autism spectrum disorders’. Autism. 13(3), p. 215–228.
Moseley, Dr Rachel and Prof Julie Gamble-Turner. (2026). Autistic Menopause: A Guide to the Menopausal Transition for Autistic People and those Supporting Them. p.161-169.