The myth of menopause
I learn how it could be that menopause – a natural rite of passage for biological women – means to act, with both passion and intent, rather than to simply wither
I often think about my grandmothers, both of whom I have lost but remember dearly. I also find myself wondering about my great-grandmothers. I’ve never met them and know little about their lives.
And yet, by the time I was a four-month-old foetus in my mother’s womb, all the eggs I would ever carry were already formed. My cellular life would have started when my mother was in my grandmother’s womb, and although this was not a complete form of myself, it blows my mind to think that part of my life cycle started in my grandmother in this way.
This thread that runs between our elders, our bodies, and the Earth that inhabits and regulates our cycles is what keeps us vital and alive, and yet the lack of regard for all things old, including old ecosystems and particularly old women, has changed the way we view the second half of our lives. I’m talking about menopause and beyond. Attitudes towards menopause vary across cultures. In the west, it’s often associated with loss of youth, and it’s some- thing that has become highly medicalised, as if ageing itself were a terrible disease. The word ‘menopause’ is derived from the Greek mēn, meaning ‘month’, and pausis, meaning ‘cessation’.
In places around the world where fertility is highly valued, such as parts of India and Africa, menopause is something that is feared. In Arabic, menopause is called sinn al ya, which means ‘the age of despair’. In other parts of the world, however, such as amongst the Mayan people of Guatemala, women look forward to the freedom and status associated with the transition to and through menopause. A common belief in traditional shamanic cultures – for example, the Mayan people, and the Cree people of Canada – is that women must enter menopause to access their shamanic and healing powers.
In the west, clinging on to youth is a symptom of the fear of feeling invisible as an older woman. Perhaps this fear of older age stems from the depiction of older women throughout our history.
From the time of our childhood, we have absorbed fairytales that present older women as villains, such as the grandmother in Hansel and Gretel who wants to roast children in her oven, or the witch in The Little Mermaid who cuts out Ariel’s tongue.
Some historians suggest that the idea of the ‘wicked’ old woman stems in part from the ‘Humoral Theory’. This is a belief that menstruation is a cathartic experience whereby the poisonous blood is expelled. When this bleeding ceases, the menopausal woman becomes tainted, polluted and thus a threat to the natural order. For hundreds of years, women were persecuted, and during the witch trials of 16th-century England, they were even tortured and burnt. Historians also suggest that most of these women were aged over 50.
“The spiritual lands of Wild Woman have, throughout history, been plundered or burnt, dens bulldozed, and natural cycles forced into unnatural rhythms to please others. It is not so difficult to comprehend why old forests and old women are viewed as not very important resources,” writes Clarissa Pinkola Estes, a writer, poet and Jungian psycho-analyst who specialises in post-trauma, in her bestselling 1992 classic, Women Who Run with the Wolves: Myths and stories of the Wild Woman Archetype.
In her audiobook The Joyous Body: Myths and Stories of the Wise Woman Archetype, Estes talks about having suffered an accident that led to the removal of her ovaries. She describes how, as a result, she experienced menopause almost overnight. “I saw an open door I had never seen before,” she says. “What if [menopause] was an action word, rather than something that just happens to us? What if the river has been rerouted, and the blood that we speak about is vibrant energy to be used as we see fit? What if, now, it was used to fulfil calling, creativity, commitment and new life in ways that we have never considered before? In other words, I think menopause means to act rather than to cease.”
A common belief among traditional shamanic cultures – for example, the Mayan people and the Cree people of Canada – is that women must enter menopause to access their shamanic and healing powers
The evolutionary role of older women in society is explored by Susan Mattern in her book The Slow Moon Climbs: The Science, History, and Meaning of Menopause. Mattern draws upon historical, scientific and cultural research to debunk the narrative amongst scientists that menopause is “an accident of living too long”. Her scientific investigation presents the ‘Grandmother hypothesis’, which perceives menopause not as a mistake of evolution, but as an evolutionary function and one that is pivotal in order for humans to flourish.
I speak with a breathwork practitioner, bodyworker, therapist and close friend, Purnima Txayá, who is now aged 50 and who started her menopause at the age of 41, a decade earlier than the average onset. Txayá is originally from Riachão do Jacuípe, Brazil and currently lives in London. She tells me:
“I had no previous information about menopause. Alone, I started a deep process of grief. I felt like a part of me was dying. A self-healing journey took place. This journey is so important for anyone who doesn’t have the tools to deal with all the emotional and psychological instability. I rely on an entire life dedicated to breathwork, meditation, and therapy including ayurvedic yoga massage (the Kusum Modak Method), as well as my shamanic path.
“Old traumas came to the surface and at some point, I understood that asking for help was necessary to make it easier. I had imposter syndrome stealing my self-confidence in delivering my work, and I felt that I didn’t have the clarity to make decisions. I couldn’t trust the doctors’ guidance to undergo hormone replacement therapy (HRT), because they didn’t offer me the bioidentical option (hormones identical to the body’s hormones, which are considered safer).
“I missed out on having people around me talking about the subject and I didn’t have the wise female elders to guide me. In the end, menopause was an initiation to my own inner wise woman. An initiation is something that we have to do alone, such as the first and the last breath of our human journey.”
Lara Briden, the author of Hormone Repair Manual: Every Woman’s Guide to Healthy Hormones After 40, addresses the stigma surrounding menopause, noting the reluctance of women to discuss these changes in our bodies as societal shame, and yet she speaks of the “menopausal zest” akin to a rejuvenating second wind that comes once our brains have rewired and our hormones have settled. Despite cultural and scientific misconceptions, Briden emphasises that life doesn’t diminish but rather flourishes after menopause. In her book, she uses the Japanese word konenki to describe this new wave of energy and vigour that comes once you’ve passed through the transition. She says: “I’m 54 now, years after my final period. I feel stable now the neurological rewiring of the brain is behind me.”
As a naturopathic doctor, Briden believes that there are old narratives in the medical world that are scientifically inaccurate, one of which is that oestrogen deficiency puts our health at risk.
“Whilst it’s true that certain health risks can begin during perimenopause, it’s not causal, because in every society across the globe, women have lived and do outlive men without hormone therapy. The hormone deficiency narrative flies in the face of biological reality,” she tells me.
According to Briden, the most important thing to do is trust our bodies, because “women’s health is not as mysterious or as complicated as we’ve been led to believe. The body knows what to do given the right support”. In her book, she writes: “You have permission to feel what you feel and not apologise or feel the need to explain yourself. As we’ll see, the freedom to not apologise or people-please might be one of the best things about second puberty.”
I believe that we are entering a generation that is beginning to see menopause in a different light, and that’s thanks to the work of already post-menopausal women such as Briden and those I’ve included in this article, who are unravelling old narratives, sharing information and debunking the myths and stereotypes around what it means to be a menopausal woman.
If only we honoured our inner elders, our grandmothers, like our old forests and ecosystems, as the knowledge bearers, lifekeepers and guides in the ever-changing, ever-diverting, ever re-routing rivers of our lives...