Or, how I spent my Christmas break reading feminist writing as an antidote to menopausal distress.
Warning: This post is about a subject that makes some people uncomfortable.
Two relevant definitions: Menopause: The ceasing of menstruation; the period in a woman’s life when this occurs (typically between 45 and 50 years of age; Perimenopause: The period in a woman’s life shortly before the occurrence of the menopause.
22nd December, 2020.
I’m on chapter 11 of the 12 chapters in the book that I have been reading breathlessly over the last 2 days. I’ve been reading it at every opportunity through the day, every time I take a break from work. Maybe this is how newly religious people feel about their holy books - a semi-desperate clawing, a mad hope that this will provide answers to all the soul-consuming questions, that this book will save me.
But as I started chapter 11 just now, I just realised that this is the last chapter. I did not find any clear directives in the last 10 chapters, and I’m unlikely to find them now. What I did find, and feel very thankful for, is buckets of useful information, given with incredible honesty and love, given in the way of the best kind of teachers — the kind who teach you how to find your own answers. As I read, I laughed out loud, got goosebumps, and sometimes, had to shut the book to breathe deeply and walk because my eyes filled up with tears of gratitude.
The book is called Flash Count Diary. It is a book about whales, feminism, writing, relationships — all the things I love. But it is primarily about menopause, which is the reason I found it. The way I found the book is pretty funny. I was raving to the universe (and to my husband, to my brother, to friends) about the lack of useful information on menopause. What I really want to know is — what do all these powerful women I admire say about menopause? Did Angela Merkel get the kind of insomnia I’m experiencing? Did she also stumble through her day, feeling exhausted and angry? What do Hillary Clinton and Jane Fonda think about HRT? Has Arundhati Roy been there yet? What do Elizabeth Gilbert and Jhumpa Lahiri say about menopause (if anything)? I learned that Elizabeth Gilbert had loved a book on menopause with the strange sounding title of “Flash Count Diary”. I bought the book, and here I am, two days later, filled to the brim with gratitude. I’m also still filled with questions on how to navigate this strange hormonal landscape I find myself in, but I have some tools to start answering those questions for myself.
23rd December, 2020
I finished the book at 6 AM this morning. I tend to think in lists of threes, and my brain effortlessly listed the three biggest gifts I got from this book.
First, it’s okay to be angry. I’ve always been so apologetic about my anger. Sorry, I was hungry, sorry I was PMSing. These days it is — sorry, I’m perimenopausal. Reading Flash Count Diary, I was fascinated by the idea that all these years, the hormone estrogen might have been guiding my behavior to be agreeable, charming and popular at the cost of authenticity. An absence of estrogen (during PMS or menopause) might make women more truthful, less able to tolerate injustice. If being “less feminine” comes with being more real, more confident, then bring on the menopause and the anger I say. There’s plenty of things that I need to speak up for.
Second, HRT might not be the magical bullet I had imagined it was. I learned about studies on HRT. I got directions to other books I could read to learn more about the linkage between HRT and cancer. My decision (for now) — I will stay off HRT until I can.
Third, there are plenty of things to look forward to on the other side of menopause. There is an interesting theory that should be studied more: the menopausal brain does go a little wonky (hello hot flashes) when it is first deprived of the estrogen-laden hormonal landscape it was used to, but with time, it adapts and builds new neuronal pathways to work around the missing hormones. This neuronal flexibility might make brains of older women more agile and better at seeing the bigger picture. I imagine myself turning into a wise, far-seeing matriarch, and I like the idea.
And maybe a bonus fourth: Whales are fucking amazing creatures. Darcey loves them, and now I love them too. I made a small donation to Wild Orcas this morning.
One of my constant life complaints has been that I don’t have any close friends who are older women. There is a small handful of women I love, who are my life-blood and sources of sanity, but they’re either all younger than me, or around the same age but not menopausal yet. I need someone to talk to about the interesting things happening to my body, and I can’t find anyone. The stigma around menopause is as big as the stigma around menstruation. Maybe bigger. As I read Flash Count Diary, I made peace with the fact that I will need to figure out my menopause without dialogues with friends. Clearly, I am set to move into the role of matriarch for his tribe of amazing women. I told one of them last week: you know what, I’ll try to see my current discomfort as a learning laboratory for you. When you have your menopause 5, 10, 15 years from now, you’ll know that I went through it all and thrived, and that you have me to talk to. She laughed and said thank you, but she’ll see what I mean when she wakes up flashing and can’t go back to sleep.
As for the older, wiser friends that I need, I have access to a tribe of feminist writers. Thank you, Darcey Steinke. I’m very grateful I found you. Next up — Germaine Greer, who said: “The menopausal woman is the prisoner of a stereotype and will not be rescued from it until she has begun to tell her own story.” I took that quote as a personal invitation and decided to start telling my story.
After Greer, I’ll read Women who run with the wolves (Clarissa Pinkola Estés). I’m open to more recommendations.
