Five years ago, on 10th January 2015, I fell down a hole. It wasn’t a very big hole, to be fair. But I still managed to miss seeing it, lose my footing and end up face down on the ground. In front of shoppers and traffic on a busy Saturday morning.
Two weeks later I walked out of the local school where I’d been teaching for twelve years and never went back. At the time I didn’t realize that I wouldn’t return. But I needed a break. I was burnt out and confused. You’d think that these two facts aren’t related. I certainly didn’t think so. But in retrospect, they were the beginning of an unfortunate series of events that brought me here to you, sitting here reading this.
“Menopause is only scary because women have been taught it is. Or NOT taught. Because no one wants to talk openly”
The next few months ushered in a sudden bereavement, more family illness on top of my own deteriorating health. My formerly stable existence, the one I’d been fooling myself into thinking was absolutely fine, began to unravel. Quickly.
Have you ever felt alone? Not the sitting on your own kind of alone. But the ‘in a room with your family’ kind of alone. The ‘at a party with friends’ kind of alone. The kind of alone that makes you question yourself and your life choices. Not because you don’t love or even like the people you’re with. But because they no longer understand you. Because you don't even understand yourself. Things have changed and you cant put your finger on exactly why.
Five years ago I felt this way. Both my daughters had left for university. One returning after a year’s internship and the other starting her Fresher’s week. Our shared home empty, my focal points gone on to live their own lives, I had no choice but to look at what was left. And frankly, it scared me.
I was 52. My body was changing before my very eyes. I didn’t feel that I could talk to anyone. I didn’t see any references to my thoughts or feelings. So, I kept going as best I could. Hoping that no one would notice. Pasting my usual smile firmly on my face. Trying to keep calm and carry on.
Six months later I was off work, diagnosed with anxiety and depression and facing menopausal symptoms that had me up most of the night googling and scaring myself half to death thinking I was dying.
If only I’d had someone to talk to. If only I had seen something, anything or any one talking about what I was experiencing. I felt utterly miserable and completely alone.
I’m not painting a pretty picture am I? You see menopause wasn’t something anyone talked about unless it was the punch line to a joke. I certainly knew nothing of the symptoms. The information I had gleaned was that HRT was bad, hot flushes made you want to rip your layers off and hitting menopause meant women were old, undesirable and could no longer have kids. That’s about it. None of that sounded positive. So when I started to experience hot flushes my mind wouldn’t let me process the connection to menopause. Even though I hadn’t had a period for over a year I thought my fluctuating temperature was due to a fault in our new boiler. (True story) Absolute and utter denial caused by misinformation and a deep wish to remain young forever. Because that’s where it’s at, according to everything we read and see. Being young is the Holy Grail. Old is…well you may as well be dead, right?
Wrong.
Menopause is only scary because women have been taught it is. Or NOT taught. Because no one wants to talk openly.
Have you wondered why that might be? Why, at a time when we could be celebrating the privilege of reaching an age where we are able to transition healthily into our power, are we so reticent to admit it? There’s the word. Power.
Menopause makes women power full. It feels difficult because it is a crossing over. Nothing that is worth having is easy. Someone really important said that* and its absolutely true. Menopause is worth it.
I had hit a crossroads. Little things niggled. My body would no longer do as it was told. My, always busy, mind couldn’t seem to retain simple information. I was even losing the will to be creative, something I had always been able to immerse myself in. This unfamiliar state began to erode at my confidence. I felt overwhelmed but couldn’t see a way forward. Alone at home this newfound freedom presented more like a vast black hole.
I thought that leaving my career would give me much needed space to get better instantly. But instead I spiraled downwards. My physical and mental health deteriorated. I didn’t know what was happening but I knew I wanted out. Wherever I looked I couldn’t see anyone who was having the same experience. Why wasn’t anyone talking?
With help, I slowly began to heal. I put a routine in place that worked for me. I rediscovered a new love for fashion and how conscious dressing could help me lift my mood and shared this with others online as Wear Your Happy®. For the first time in my life I put myself before anything or anyone else. And I chose to curate the rest of my days doing things that I love. I chose me.
I won’t pretend that it was easy. I found a therapist. I had put therapy off for years, deciding it was too expensive. When I finally began I quickly learned that you can’t put a price on good therapy. I still feel grateful that I could access it when I needed to.
But that isn’t all.
I was able to take the time to figure out what it was that I needed to function well and I took it from there.
I delved into mindful meditation. My decades of dance training took on a new level as I rediscovered my changing, aging body and crafted a routine to suit it’s needs. I learned to fall back in love with creating and ended up hand sewing a Quilt of Wonder. I embraced walking in fresh air whilst I could no longer run. I became silent more often. And in the midst of this I worked out that fashion was something I could not only have fun with but I could use to help me heal. I started to choose clothing based on what it meant to me, a gift from a dear friend or a colour that I loved (vibrant all the way babyyy) I shared my random musings on social media using #wearyourhappy to curate it. And something else happened. My mindset shifted. I started to question society’s expectations and fashion ‘rules’ for women. And I stopped giving damn about what others thought of me, what I wore and what I said. It was utterly freeing. I had spent most of my adult life trying to fit in. Scared of being wrong or being seen as too different. The moment I felt able to talk, my words started to resonate with other women.
Style Like U cover image. August 2019.
If you’re struggling to navigate menopause and feeling alone, I’ve created a welcoming, safe community space Wear Your Happy® Thrive.
Wear Your Happy® Thrive is a new community for women who feel that they have lost their way. I’m creating a group of cheerleaders for women who feel alone. Confused by all the comings and goings in your head and in your body. I’ll be your guiding hand. Someone who’s been there and wants you to have a smoother happier journey to thrive through menopause instead of simply enduring it.
I no longer suffer from depression. I can’t remember exactly the last time a bout anxiety arrived. Like many my mental well being is fluid and that’s perfectly ok. I can’t predict what the future holds for me but I do know that I have several more years of menopause to thrive through. I’m confident that I can do so boldly and confidently. I believe you can too.
*Roosevelt! Theodore Roosevelt said it. I feel better now.