Today is World Menopause Day.
A movement is growing, and it’s being driven by women. Tired of the stigma surrounding menopause, we’re speaking up, starting support groups, and challenging outdated views.
Menopause is an experience defined by its contradictions. Every woman goes through it, yet it’s still treated as a private struggle. The conversation has moved forward in recent years, but the taboo lingers. At best, we don’t know where to turn. At worst, we’re ignored when we do ask for help. Whether it’s due to a lack of awareness, or secrecy and shame, the result is often the same: women are left managing symptoms in silence.
This was my story. It’s what drove me to help set up Trafford Housing Trust’s Menopause Champions Group. After our merger with L&Q, the group grew. Now, with 10 colleagues, we’re here to start conversations, share guidance, and show colleagues that they don’t have to face this alone.
When it started, I didn’t understand it. Perimenopause began for me in my early forties. I was achy, stressed, moody and suddenly anxious for the first time in my life. As a mum working full-time, juggling long hours and supporting two teenage daughters through GCSEs, I blamed burnout. I told myself it was just a tough season, not something bigger.
Two years later, things were worse. My anxiety was through the roof. My concentration was gone. Nights were sleepless. I turned to my GP - the same doctor who had cared for me through pregnancy – hoping for answers. Instead, I left the surgery deflated. His knowledge was limited, and I began to wonder if it was all in my head.
Eventually, I found a private menopause consultant and started Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT) patches. Two years on this plan, and I still wasn’t okay. The exhaustion was crushing. I felt emotionally numb. It all came to a head when I had to take two weeks off work, something I’d never done before. I felt like a fraud, unable to explain what was happening. I’ve never been one to avoid life: I love my job, and I thrive on being with people. Yet all I wanted was to hide in a dark room, alone.
A blood test revealed the problem: I wasn’t absorbing the patches. My consultant switched me to an oral medication. For the first time in years, I began to feel like myself.
That shift gave me something I hadn’t had in a long time: hope. And with it came a new sense of purpose.
As an Extra Care Manager, I spend most of my time with carers, many of them women around menopausal age. I wanted them to know it’s okay. That what they’re going through isn’t their fault. That they deserve care and support too.
As I spoke with colleagues, I realised parts of my story echoed theirs. No one had had a straightforward experience with menopause care. I also learned about the unequal health outcomes faced by different ethnic groups. Cultural differences can have a huge impact on treatment, especially in communities where trust in healthcare has been eroded.
Among colleagues from African and Caribbean backgrounds, I saw this play out first-hand. Even when they found the courage to see their GP, many left feeling dismissed. Some gave up, resigned to living with pain, exhaustion and emotional strain while working physically demanding jobs.
I couldn’t just stand by; I had to do something. I approached HR, and together we created the Menopause Champions. I gathered everything I could: clear, practical information stripped of jargon. Resources simple enough for someone battling brain fog to use. I helped colleagues book appointments, explained NICE guidelines, and talked them through treatment options. This time, they went to their GPs prepared, with evidence and questions. When they came back with patches below their waists and smiles on their faces, I felt proud.
I’ve never been shy when it comes to talking about my health. Growing up around medical professionals made sure of that. But what I did find hard was explaining the emotional side: how it made me feel. No one wants to say they feel they’re not coping, especially when there’s no end in sight.
A healthy approach to women’s health starts with women empowering each other. It means recognising the courage it takes to speak up, and making sure that bravery is met with support.
What makes a good menopause champion?
Time. Space. And a willingness to really listen. Not just to the words, but to what lies beneath. When colleagues told me about ‘work stress’, it wasn’t always about workload. It was the inner chaos of their own symptoms. The frightening sense of not being in control.
Being a champion at L&Q means showing up, sitting face to face, reaching out a hand. Sharing your story so someone feels safe enough to share theirs. There’s comfort in knowing how debilitating the symptoms can be. That you’re not imagining things. You’re not going mad. You’re menopausal.
I know, first hand, the difference a wellbeing-focused employer can make. This isn’t just a ‘signpost’ role. It’s human, and it’s personal. It’s why safe spaces at work matter more than ever. And it’s why the conversations we’re having today must not stop here.