Lips Carpenter's Hydra Glow Colour-Changing Lip Balm FAQ

I could've written a standard beauty review, but let's be honest; you probably just want quick answers.

So here's my FAQ-style take on Lips Carpenter's Hydra Glow Colour-Changing Lip Balm, written with equal parts of curiosity, hormonal chaos, and an unexplainable attraction to anything that promises "glow."

Because when your body is in perimenopause and your patience is in early retirement, you may not have the mood for complicated beauty routines.

Q1: Why did I buy Lips Carpenter's Hydra Glow Colour-Changing Lip Balm?

When I saw an Instagram ad by Lips Carpenter for a locally-handcrafted, colour-changing, hydrating lip balm promising a natural glow called Hydra Glow Colour-Changing Lip Balm; I thought, yes, this might be the low-effort joy that balances out life's high-effort days.

Q2: Does the lip balm really change my lip's colour?

Yes, and quite beautifully. The balm starts off clear, then reacts with your lip's pH to reveal your personal shade of pink. Mine turned into a soft rose hue that somehow looked more alive than I felt that morning.

It's not magic, it's chemistry; but I'll take any kind of transformation that doesn't involve mood swings or hot flashes.

This pH-activated balm reacts to your lips and transforms them — from dry to dewy, in one effortless swipe.

Before Hydra Glow Colour-Changing Lip Balm

After Hydra Glow Colour-Changing Lip Balm

Q3: How does it feel on the lips?

It glides on smoothly, feels lightweight, and actually hydrates. There's a subtle sheen, not glossy, just healthy. If you've ever used lipsticks that made your lips feel like the Sahara halfway through the day, this one's a relief.

Q4: Is it perimenopause-friendly?

Absolutely. I'd even say it's perimenopause-approved. It's gentle, soothing, and doesn't trigger dryness or sensitivity. This is definitely a big win when your skin suddenly decides to become allergic to everything, including your own existence.

Q5: What’s in it, and why should I care?

Because your lips deserve better than mystery chemicals.

In fact, the ingredients list reads like a spa menu: coconut oil, olive oil, beeswax, shea butter, vitamin E, vitamin C, rose geranium oil, orange peel oil.

Clean, simple, and local.

As someone who's now reading ingredient labels more carefully than horoscopes, I appreciate that.

Q6: Is it worth the RM108 (with free name engraving)*?

For me, yes. I think it's somewhat affordable, performs well, and looks effortlessly natural.

I call it cost per compliment ratio: a solid 10/10, especially on no-makeup days when I just want to look "alive but not trying too hard."

Furthermore, Lips Carpenter is a Malaysian brand with a clean beauty philosophy; no parabens, no synthetic fragrances, and eco-conscious packaging.

*correct at the time of publishing this blog post

Q7: Would I buy it again?

Without hesitation. Because change is constant - in hormones, in mood, in everything - and this little balm reminds me that not all change is bad. Some, like this soft rose pink tint, are beautifully unexpected.

You can purchase this colour-changing lip and experience it for yourself from Lips Carpenter's website.

Note: This is NOT a sponsored post. I bought the lip balm and wrote this review entirely of my own volition.

Because in this phase of life, I only rave about products that "hydrate" - my lips or my soul.

Maybe We're Not Breaking Down; Maybe We're Just Waking Up

Lately, I've been having this newfound realisation.

Why is it that so many of the women I see starting things - whether it's coaching businesses, self-improvement pages, founding women empowerment community circles, podcasts - all are around the same age group?

40s. Early 50s. More or less the age where… well, perimenopause and menopause starts creeping in.

And honestly, I can't help but wonder: Are we doing all this because we're losing ourselves… or are we actually trying to find ourselves back?

Unexpected Crying Bouts That Just Hit You

Here's the unfiltered version.

At some points of the day, I cry, untriggered, for no clear reason.

I feel like I can't breathe properly. I feel overwhelmed out of nowhere. I overthink. I scroll through social media and suddenly feel like I've done nothing meaningful with my life, despite everything I've actually done.

Then I snap back into work mode, hit deadlines, reply to WhatsApp messages, and plan the next thing - reviewing social media posting captions, fixing a presentation deck, drafting new blog posts, whatever.

The Hormones Are Real, But So Is the Existential Earthquake

Yes, science says this is the season where oestrogen and progesterone go on a rollercoaster ride. That alone can mess with your mood, your sleep, your thoughts, even your memory.

But it's not just biology. It's identity.

It's like someone suddenly hit the pause button on life and asked:

"Eh, who are you, really?"

"What do you still want?"

"Have you been living life the way you wanted to, or just following the script?"

And wow, that's a hard pill to swallow when you realise you've been running on autopilot for years.

So What Do We Do?

We start something. Anything.

A podcast.

A side hustle.

A journaling habit.

A health journey.

A new hairstyle.

A blog post that sounds like this.

Not because we're lost.

But because we're trying to make sense of the new version of us that's starting to emerge.

It's not always graceful.

It's not always empowering.

Sometimes it's just crying in the dark bedroom after putting the kids to sleep, and Googling "is this a midlife crisis or am I just dramatic?"

Maybe It's Not a Breakdown. Maybe It's a Reboot.

No one talks about this enough.

This could be the stage where you're shedding who you used to be and slowly figuring out who you're becoming.

It can be confusing; but I gotta agree that it's also kind of magical.

And if you're feeling like this too - like something inside you is unravelling quietly even as the world sees you "having it all together"...

...just know you're not alone.

You're not weak. You're not unstable.

You're evolving.

We all are.

And Maybe This Is the Most Honest Thing I've Written in Awhile

So here's to the women who are tired and brave at the same time.

To the women crying quietly and still showing up.

To the women shedding old skins, not because they want to, but because they have to.

Here's to us. Midlife women. Not broken. Just breaking through.

Before I end, here are two songs I've had on repeat - gentle companions to this season of unravelling and rediscovering.

My Way (KATSEYE)

A soft reminder that even when the path feels shaky, you're still walking it your way; one brave, messy, beautiful step at a time.

In Another World (EJAE)

For the version of you you're still becoming. The one who's slowly surfacing through the tears, the chaos, and the quiet rebuild.

Thanks for reading and for holding space with me.

If you're in this season too, know that I see you.

And remember:

You're not "too emotional." You're not "too late." You're right on time for your next chapter. 🔥

Lessons from a 12-Year-Old (A Belated Birthday Post)

This post is a little late. But in my defence, so is my sense of time these days. Between school holidays, work deadlines, and the hormonal plot twists of perimenopause, the months just fly by without me realising it soon enough.

In August, we celebrated out eldest turning twelve with two celebrations: 1) Gordon Ramsay Street Pizza (with a bunch of his classmates, all 12yo tweens), and 2) #M.O.T.D Café, Bar & Dining (just four of us - calmer, low profile, and slightly more grown-up).

And somewhere in between meals and those loud and quiet moments, I realised my 12yo tween could be my accidental life coach; and that motherhood in midlife (OMG!) comes with its own lessons in balance, patience, and humour (I truly hope so).

Lesson 1: "Feedback sometimes come with extra cheese"

At Gordon Ramsay Street Pizza, we ordered about seven different types of pizzas. At one point, he took one bite of his favourite pepperoni pizza (not the one in the photo above) and said, "Not bad… but nothing too special also."

Direct. Precise. No sugar-coating. But the whole pizza was gone within minutes.

Key takeaway

Deliver feedback like pizza. Honest, but with enough warmth to make people want another round (hormones permitting).

Lesson 2: "Confidence is ordering dessert without looking at the menu"

At M.O.T.D., he didn't even glance at the list of desserts. He just said, "I want the chocolate one." Meanwhile, I was still calculating sugar levels, calorie surplus, and whether my metabolism had bail on me for the evening.

Key takeaway

Maybe sometimes clarity isn't about overthinking options; it's about knowing what you enjoy and owning it.

And maybe that's what perimenopause is teaching me too; to care less about what I should be doing and more about what actually feels right.

Lesson 3: "Growing up is learning when to roll your eyes… and when to hug instead"

He's at that age where my incessant reminders are "naggy." Yet somehow, he still leans in for a side-hug sometimes.

Key takeaway

Emotional intelligence isn't about being serious all the time; it's about knowing which moments matter enough to show up for.

Bonus Lesson: "Belated posts are still valid"

Time flies. And sometimes, catching up on memories counts more than keeping up with timelines. Cheers!

Key takeaway

Midlife isn't about being on schedule; it's about embracing the beautifully delayed.

Rosemance

And finally, I just want to leave this post with a little something beautiful - a mocktail called Rosemance, a delicate blend of cranberry juice, raspberry, lemon juice, rosewater, egg white, and rose syrup.

Pretty, soft, and just the right note to end a day that reminded me how sweet life still is; even in its changing seasons.

When You Write About What You Eat (LinkedIn-Style): A Korean BBQ "Case Study"

It started as a simple lunch plan with my son.

No grand expectations, no camera angles in mind. We were just here for delicious grilled meat and the familiar "chaos" of Korean BBQ.

Halfway through the meal, as I observed the different types of marinated pork and banchan lined up like 'overachievers on a performance review', I caught myself thinking.

Instead of the usual food review post, what if I wrote a LinkedIn-style blog post about my Korean BBQ experience? You know the kind - the ones where someone orders coffee and ends up learning a lesson about gratitude or whatever.

So, here's my first, humble attempt to turn lunch into a professional development session (minus the HR-approved hashtags). Hahaha!

The Grill = Project Timeline

At first, everything looks manageable. Then the pork, mushrooms, kimchi, beansprouts all demand your attention at once. Someone turns the heat up too high (let's say, a stakeholder), and before you know it, things are burning while you're trying to save the enoki mushrooms from extinction.

Banchan = Unsung Team Players

Tiny bowls. Big flavour profile. Come to think of it, without these gorgeous banchan, Korean BBQ is just incomplete.

I honestly think the banchan are the operations team members of any good Korean BBQ meal; the ones ensuring balance, variety, and that occasional palate-cleansing surprise (hello, potato salad).

Octopus = Agility

And then came the marinated octopus - fiery, unpredictable, and sticks to your teeth. Much like that urgent ad-hoc project with a vague brief, unrealistic timeline, and 12 people panicking in different directions.

The Final Wrap-Up (Literally)

By the time you wrap your last bite in perilla leaf with grilled pork, kimchi, enoki, sauce, and a hint of chaos - it finally hits you: personal life and work life aren't all that different.

A little messy. Occasionally spicy. Always a work in progress.

Some days you over-grill, some days you under-season, but somehow, it still satisfies.

And maybe that's why I love Korean BBQ — it teaches balance, patience, and the occasional value of burnt edges.

Then again, if you've ever grilled meat and reflected on stakeholder management in the same breath, congratulations! I believe you're officially ready to post this on LinkedIn. 😉