- I went through medically induced menopause at 37 to keep my breast cancer from recurring.
- Celebrities have been talking about menopause openly, and I'm grateful it's becoming less taboo.
Last week I was at a restaurant celebrating my best friend Julia's 40th birthday when I felt a wave of heat rising in my chest. Suddenly the small corner banquette I was squished into with five of my closest friends became a sinking ship I desperately needed to get off. Panicked, I reached for my glass of water.
Damnit. What was I thinking wearing silk? But then, suddenly, pit stains were the least of my concerns. I chugged the cold water while furiously fanning my chest and neck, and thankfully my body temperature began to lower.
When I finally looked up, I noticed the conversation around me had come to a halt. My friends were all staring at me with intrigue and awe, as if I'd just performed a magic trick.
"Were you just having … a hot flash?" my friend Annie asked in a hushed tone.
"More of a warm flash," I said. I put down the empty water glass. "Sometimes if I catch it right as it starts, like if I've had too much alcohol, I can stop it in its tracks."
"That was so cool to watch," Annie said, sipping her margarita. "It was just like Drew Barrymore!"
"Um, hot flashes aren't actually cool," I said. I rolled my eyes at myself, at the conversation in general.
Later that evening, I went about my bedtime routine: a cold shower to help prevent night sweats, moisturizer to head off dry itchy skin, and hormone pills to prevent my breast cancer from recurring. These medications are the culprit that pushed me into induced premature menopause, by killing all the estrogen in my body and shutting down my ovaries. I thought back to dinner and how my friends had pelted me with questions about what to expect in menopause. It reminded me of the time in high school when my younger sister's friends asked me to describe what an orgasm feels like. And it made me wonder: Is menopause suddenly … cool?
I started going through medically induced menopause at 37
Five years ago, when I was abruptly pushed into medically induced menopause to treat my HER2-positive breast cancer, I had no idea what to expect. I was relieved to learn that my type of cancer was treatable (I was going to live!) and that I wouldn't need chemotherapy (I could keep my hair!). I'd already had my two children, and I wasn't planning on having more; I wouldn't need to worry about fertility concerns as a consequence of the treatment. Going into early, induced menopause wasn't a major concern of mine.
"The hormone medications will induce menopause," my oncologist said.
I sat before him, half naked, on the examination table. "OK," I said.
That was basically our entire conversation. He didn't offer additional information, and I didn't ask any follow-up questions. Maybe that was because I was already feeling extremely vulnerable given the power dynamic. This was the person who was going to save my life; I do what he says. Or perhaps I was embarrassed to admit I didn't know much about menopause, except that I would no longer get my period, which, let's be honest, sounded amazing.
My menstrual cycle was always preceded by one week of intense PMS; bloating and cramping so severe it felt like I was having an ulcer; and volatile mood swings that sent me off the rails, landing me in bed with any Netflix rom-com starring Noah Centineo. That wasn't something I thought I'd miss, and I don't. (Well, maybe the Netflix part.)
I assumed I'd have a few hot flashes, because I vaguely remember my mother had some. But she passed away five years before my diagnosis, and I couldn't turn to her for guidance. I thought, how bad could it be?
Within days of starting the hormone medication, I crossed the threshold into menopause — at 37. I was shocked when I found myself suddenly feeling older; I immediately experienced chronic fatigue, brain fog, and muscle and body aches, all while still looking like a young woman. Most of my friends couldn't understand what was happening to my body on the inside because they hadn't yet gone through it. I rarely complained about my symptoms, in part because of survivor's guilt. I learned to live with the painful and uncomfortable symptoms of menopause, and for years I felt very much alone.
The conversation around menopause has clearly shifted
Enter Drew Barrymore. She's been open about going through menopause with guests on her show, including Maria Shriver and Oprah. She also had her first perimenopausal hot flash on air during an interview with Jennifer Aniston.
It's not just Barrymore, Shriver, and Oprah (though they'd be enough). It's Naomi Watts. And Jada Pinkett Smith. And Gayle King, Salma Hayek, Stacy London, and Glennon Doyle. Suddenly, very public conversations around menopause — long considered a taboo topic — were happening all around me, and it seemed like every outspoken female celebrity of a certain age was blowing the door wide open on menopause.
My friends are paying attention too. "OMG," my friend Adina texted. "Did you see Drew Barrymore had her first perimenopausal hot flash on-air with J Aniston?!"
"Ahhhh! Gayle King said 'dry vagina' 3 times on live television!! Amazing," my friend Emily wrote.
What had once been my personal and silent struggle was now playing out on social media and daytime TV. I was elated, and I felt like a bit of a celebrity myself within my circle of friends. Among my peers, I'm the only one who's been through it — I have the answers.
Over the past few months the discourse around menopause has changed. And hearing public figures talk openly about menopause has made me feel less shame about what I've gone through. I've felt included in a major cultural shift in how we talk about women's health and aging. Suddenly, it felt like menopause was becoming a club all the cool kids were joining — and I was happy to be a part of it.
Sometimes I still feel my experience is left out of the narrative
A few weeks ago, I listened to Barrymore and King in discussion with Nikki Battiste, who asked them to each describe menopause in one word. "Natural," Barrymore said. "Reality," King said. They smiled at one another.
As they spoke, I felt something stir inside my chest, and it wasn't a postmenopausal heart palpitation. Crestfallen, I put down my collagen smoothie and closed my computer. While their descriptors of menopause were honest and true for them, I couldn't help but feel left out.
What about the people (like myself) who've gone through menopause unnaturally? What's been missing from these public conversations about menopause is us. Menopause doesn't happen "naturally" more often than you might think. There are many reasons a person could go through early menopause, including fertility treatments, autoimmune disease, chromosomal abnormalities, thyroid disorders, environmental factors, and genetics. There are also surgeries, such as hysterectomy and oophorectomy, that may be the cause. Cancer treatments — chemotherapy, radiation, and hormone therapies — can induce sudden menopause. One day you could be out there living your life, and the next you might be diagnosed with a life-threatening medical condition, the treatment for which may entirely change the way your body operates. Pretty soon you could find yourself in an entirely new reality: menopause. That's what happened to me, anyway.
Because people who've gone through induced menopause — for any reason — aren't yet part of the conversation, I also rarely see talk about our treatment options. For example, research varies on whether estrogen creams and hormone-replacement therapies could lead to increased risk of recurrence for breast cancer survivors. Though estrogen-enhanced products have been found to be safe for breast-cancer survivors to use, it's important to discuss these options with your doctor, as each cancer diagnosis and treatment plan is unique.
I kind of feel like the dorky freshman who somehow made the varsity team but still has to sit quietly with the coach in the front of the bus. I'd like to hear people and public figures who've gone through medically induced menopause speaking about these things on a large platform too. While nobody should ever be forced to speak publicly about any private medical issue, I'd be grateful if experiences of menopause that were more like mine were normalized too.
I know my friends and peers have become more empathetic about menopausal-health issues, in part because these conversations are happening on a larger scale. I'm impressed with the courage of these public figures using their influence to help change the narrative around menopause — seriously, Gayle King is my new hero. And I'm hopeful the paradigm around aging in our youth-obsessed culture will continue to change. But I do hope to see more variation in the stories we see about what menopause can look like, because it doesn't always look the same, or come at the same time. While Oprah has said you can't outrun the M train, I'd add that you also never know when the M train is going to arrive, or whether it'll suddenly go express.