TAbus are strange beasts. Nobody invites them, but they prevent some of the conversations we most need to have. I have found that having the courage to break taboos and say a few brave words can open the floodgates to much-needed dialogue.
So I found myself with a group of 50-something girlfriends around a campfire in the backyard, laughing our heads off at the stubbornness of our aging ovaries and uteruses, eating Bloody Marys and deviled eggs (get it? Our eggs are spoiled…). It was my first PPP – a “Peri/Meno Pause Party.”
To backtrack a little, I am a public health academic working on women’s issues, including menstruation and related sexual and reproductive health. This involves running educational sessions with teenagers. I was the one who sometimes gave them the first direct information about periods, puberty and safe sex that they ever received.
There is a tense moment when the classroom changes. The uncomfortable whispering between the children is replaced by honesty, euphemisms are banished and direct questions prevail.
I am honored to create this space with and for my students. Yet, I realized that as a 49-year-old woman, I was not challenging the taboos of fertility issues in my own life. When my friends started whispering to me about their hot flashes, increasing anxiety, and chronic insomnia, I hatched a plan to change that: the PPP.
So I sent out the invitation and tried not to think about it too much. It went something like this:
Have you become cranky, stopped sleeping like a log, and wondered why we women don’t talk about the big change anymore? It’s time to change that! Come to our Peri/Meno Pause Party! It’s meant to be a fun and safe place to have some conversations with a little humor so we can all gain a little more knowledge and a sense of solidarity. It’s a little taboo-breaking, but it strengthens sisterhood… and I hope you’ll consider joining in!
The result was that some brave friends and neighbors agreed, showed up with themed food (think borscht and black pudding), and then plunged into a three-hour, intense conversation by the fire. We exchanged hormone tips (Who’s on HRT? How much and what? Is the gel safe for the body? Did your breasts swell up again like you were pregnant? How long did it take for it to work for you? OMG, I love it; I can sleep again!).
We compared the different medical advice we had each received (I got the prescription from my GP; how come you were referred to the gynaecologist? I was told I was too young so they put me on the pill – but I wanted to keep the option of having a child open! What and how much do these doctors learn about the menopause in medical school?!).
We talked about the podcasts and books we’d listened to in our respective silences (Louise Newson! It’s the Menopause! Woman on Fire! by Kaz Cooke). The variety of information was discussed (Is this why I don’t feel as productive at work anymore? Have I gained more weight from the 3pm chocolate that kept me awake before or the bloating after hormone replacement therapy? How come I just don’t feel like the person I once was or want to be?!).
We wondered what our mothers were experiencing (we never felt we could ask them). And we laughed—a lot—at the mischief and chaos of it all: strange nighttime wakefulness, fantasies of yelling at those annoying coworkers, radical menstrual cycles of 11, then 42, then 67 days.
As the moon rose in the sky and we talked, we felt stronger and happier for having something to share and learn. This moment showed how motivated women are to talk about these terrible taboos that have silenced us for generations. Perimenopause is no fun on its own, so why not have a party?
