How I wished I belonged to generation X. They seem to have figured out how to go through the decades without a complete nervous breakdown.
Even a decade ago, younger baby boomers were still hiding behind the deadly wall of silence. Few dared to mention the menopause. It was all but taboo. So we soldiered on alone in our symptoms, neuroses, and exhaustion. Most of us didn’t even discuss it with our closest friends.
The Silent Shame
Embarrassment, maybe—but also because it felt like announcing to the outside world that you’d reached the point of no return. You were old. Plain and simple. You were barren. Completely and utterly past all redemption. And who on earth wants to put up a billboard about that? Even I wasn’t that stupid.
I imagine most of us must have felt the same, because no one I knew swapped symptoms in the way we once might have swapped tales about disturbed sleep caused by a screaming baby. That kind of complaint brought a flood of advice. This later shared experience? Not a word.
You’re tossing and turning through the night, letting off more heat than the sub-nuclear station down the road. Your husband or partner rolls over, wondering why he’s suddenly in a tropical time zone. Sweat drips out of every pore. Desperate to cool off, you stagger to the window and tug at the curtains, hoping to use them as a makeshift fan. Defeated, you pad back to bed. Husband sleeps, and lets out a none-too-gentle snore.
Wearily, you plug into a podcast or the World Service, hoping you’ll drift off—now. You calculate the proportion of time you’ve been awake and sigh. Bad news: you’ve been awake more hours than remain. The countdown has begun.
It’s just two or three hours until the set alarm bursts into some rendition of Sencha. At which time you’ll be showering, pulling on clothes, and downing cup after cup of coffee.
You pass other women on the way to work and suddenly realise that most of them are younger than you. Your insecurities mount. Why didn’t you realise how wonderful it was to be thirty or forty instead of fifty? You arrive at work and do your best to act refreshed and ready for anything. A necessity—in case people start to question whether you’re still a good fit.
Being easy-going is part of the act. Collectively, women of a certain age have read the office script. We mustn’t talk about anything that draws attention to the fact we’re no longer the bright young things we once were. Being on the ball and quick-thinking is key in almost any job. Yawns and hopes of a quick nap won’t cut it. (Unless, perhaps, you work in Spain and take a siesta.)
Your nerves are frayed. You grip the edge of your desk, willing yourself not to explode. You worry that if someone says something just a little edgy—or plain stupid—you’ll snap back inappropriately. Easy enough to do, since everything that used to be normal dialogue is now labelled suspect, offensive, or triggering.
The Hot Flash Fashion Show
But now, suddenly, menopause is almost fashionable.
We’ve gone from “whisper it quietly” to “plaster it on a T-shirt” in the blink of an eye. Since Mariella Frostrup decided to Crack the Menopause on prime-time TV, hot flashes have become the new black. Night sweats? Utterly on trend—join the club.
According to party planners, women are now throwing Menopause Parties. Pop down to your department store or browse Amazon and you’ll find Menopause Corners, where cooling gadgets are displayed like exotic fruits. Portable fans have become the new statement jewellery. Just as Kathy Lette might say: they’re not accessories, they’re necessities—like oxygen or wine.
Diane Danzebrink’s Making Menopause Matter campaign has transformed once-reticent middle-aged women into vocal advocates, competing over who had the most dramatic hot flash. I can just hear it: “Mine was so bad, I melted my neighbour’s garden gnome from six feet away.”
“That’s nothing—I have to warn the meteorological office before bed so they can adjust tomorrow’s forecast.”
Men who once fled at the mention of female biology now read articles titled Understanding Her Hormonal Journey. I can vouch for this—one of my brothers recently engaged me in a long, sympathetic discussion about menopausal symptoms. I nearly drove into a ditch from surprise. Men who would’ve gagged just a few years ago are now conversant in the vocabulary of hormonal hell.
Speaking of language, we’re updating the terms to cheer ourselves up. Ever since Naomi Watts dared to say menopause out loud—and launched her own wellness line—we’re putting a brave face on it. We’re no longer “going through menopause”—we’re “transitioning” or “entering our second spring”. It sounds less like a biological process and more like a spiritual awakening.
Though if that’s true, we should probably be meditating in a lotus pose rather than snapping at our nearest and dearest.
Plenty of sages are stepping forward to guide us. My favourite? The Upgrade by Louise Brizendine. The only problem (as others have noted): calling it an upgrade implies there was a lot to improve on in the first place.
Meanwhile, celebrities race to publish memoirs titled things like Hot Flash: My Journey Through the Fire, complete with glamorous covers where they somehow look both wise and dewy.
Bookshop shelves are now groaning under the weight of self-help titles. Menopause: The Unexpected Gift, The Power of the Pause, and Hot Flashes, Cool Choices jostle for space beside The Menopause Diet, The Menopause Workout, and The Menopause Meditation. Because, apparently, we now need special versions of everything.
Pharmaceutical companies have rebranded too. HRT isn’t just hormone replacement anymore—it’s “reclaiming your essence”. Available in regular and premium versions. The premium version costs triple—but comes in a prettier box with empowering quotes.
Let’s Stop, Breathe, and Reclaim the Narrative
Personally, I’d be happier if we all stopped to draw breath. Let’s draw a new line in the sand and show off the “New Us” in ways that demonstrate what we’re really made of.
Instead of outlining our problems, let’s give expression to our talents. Let’s publish the research papers, start new businesses, write books, and show the world what we’re capable of.
Or, as Kathy Lette recently put it in The Telegraph with her trademark straight-talking:
“I congratulate myself on finding a bloke who doesn’t think mutual orgasm is an insurance company. Oh, what a feeling. The post-menopausal years are the best years of your life. Every woman deserves to have a sensational second act.”
WISE UP EXTRA: Getting Down to Brass Tacks
Apparently, there are over 48 recognised symptoms of menopause, ranging from anxiety, brain fog and sleep issues to joint pain, low libido, and fatigue. It’s rare for two women to experience it the same way, which is why menopause care should never be one-size-fits-all.
M-Club is on a mission to support the estimated 15.5 million women in the UK currently going through perimenopause or menopause, with a range of 18 products—from skincare and body care to supplement sprays, aromatherapy, and dry eye relief.
The range is available in select Boots stores nationwide from 14 April, as well as through Amazon and the M-Club website.
The Balance App
Developed by Dr Louise Newson and based on insights from thousands of women, the free Balance app allows you to track symptoms, access personalised expert content, download a Health Report®, and connect with others in the community.
