miss menopause

Two weeks ago, I had an extremely awkward conversation that I never imagined I would have. I often encounter, or even create, situations where conversations deviate outside the bounds of normal everyday stuff. But, sitting in my kitchen talking to a beautiful, ridiculously smart 24 year old about my menopause symptoms knocked me off my center.

First, you need to know that I volunteered for this conversation. This young woman is a friend of my son’s and she is the founder of a company making products to ease menopause symptoms. She wanted to talk with target customers and get opinions about her product, other potential products and what women “around my age” were talking about. Second, I talk about menopause all of the time with my girlfriends. Honestly, it is our number one topic. I am not adverse to discussing symptoms or remedies and conveying horror stories from from my network where people are sweating, bleeding, gaining weight, not sleeping and using words like “sandpaper.” 

The awkwardness here was caused by chatting on this subject with a woman who is at the peak of her beauty, potential and energy. Every cell in her body is awake and alive and she cannot remotely imagine the moment when she will feel a critical system in her body slowing down and taking other systems down with it. I know this is what it is like to be 24 because I was once 24 too and I still feel, in my head and some parts of my body, like I am about 33. And, 33 year old me absolutely remembers 24 year old me and feels strongly that with enough lotion and limited carbs, we could be her again.

When the menopause topic first started coming up, I was comfortably in my early 40’s and it was easy to ignore, brush off and assume that I would simply transition into my 50’s and 60’s without any of these concerns. I had a faint memory of someone asking my mom about how it went for her and her replying that she didn’t even notice it (of course she didn’t…please see blog post “jane for president”). I let optimism prevail and looked forward to following her lead, sashaying into my 50’s, grabbing my AARP card and winning menopause. I now recognize that what I’m calling “optimism” is really just an outstanding use of denial. 

After a year of using feminine products in sizes I previously did not know existed, being on speed dial with my OB-GYN and having four awful procedures, I offered to share my expertise with the cutest MIT graduate on the planet. I gave no thought to how old and sad I might feel when I looked into her sparkling eyes and relayed my friends’ and my experience with menopause. I considered telling her about all of the upsides of being my age but she distracted me with market research about how big the untapped market is for menopause relief. 

I subconsciously pivoted into talking about “my friends” symptoms so as to not fully implicate myself. I sent a quick group text to my fourteen closest friends from college asking them “what is your worst menopause symptom?”  They replied immediately: “night sweats,” “not sleeping,” “weight gain” and “brain fog.” I told her about several other friends who are finding that the end feels a lot like the beginning because they are bleeding through super plus tampons worn with boat size pads and having to hide blood-stained pants with sweatshirts wrapped around their waists. 

Lucky for me, this female entrepreneur genuinely wanted my feedback and was a good listener. I am hoping she takes me up on my offer to put together a focus group of the fifty or so women in my life who have tons to say about this topic. I want to be helpful to her and her company but am also plotting ways to help my son find a way to date her. And if I’m unable to play matchmaker in this scenario, that’s ok because what I really want are the much needed products she will invent to make this next stage of womanhood feel like I’m 33 again.