Building a village through the change

We hear a lot about perimenopause in conversation, but so much remains taboo, and I need to unpack for the general public that the change is more than physical; it is a cocoon-like metamorphosis. One day, you wake up and question conversations from years gone by. You may wonder, 'Who did I marry?' or 'Why didn't I just get married?' 'My partner is a saint; my partner is an idiot.' 'If my coworker asks me one more clarifying question, I will lose it.' Sure, people tell you that once you are over 40, you can care less about the opinions of others— that may be true. They don't tell you that for some women, a massive wave of emotions crashes into you, and you can't possibly process it all, but you must fight like hell to maintain your grip on reality, because you still have to keep a job.

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"Lordy, lordy, Barbara is 40!" the sign on the Elk Club read on the main road in town as we drove to the mall. My mom and aunt would chuckle as we drove past the sign, "You know she's going through the change." "The change," I understood, was ending your menstrual cycle, and that certainly seemed worthy of a celebration in my mind as an 8-year-old. In my mother's generation, it was rare for women to run organizations or attain big careers. Hence, the 40 marker was not only a celebration of age; "the change" sometimes signaled a shift in careers, and women silently moved into supporting roles in the community. 

Now that I am going through this profound transformation, I can better understand the burnout, sadness, and fog that the other women in my family have experienced. I am reminded of my once-vibrant, attractive, and single aunt. As the fun aunt without children, she took us on trips, and overnights at her house were legendary. She loved laughing, dancing, and racing her mint-green VW Bug on the weekends. We, her nieces and nephews, wanted to spend every weekend with her. Even when her friends started families, she continued to enjoy nightclubs and traveling; this was unheard of for a single woman well into her 30s in our small, Southern Baptist community in NC. No one believed she would ever get married and started to shame her for her "wild" ways publicly. She took the challenge head-on.  

She got married.  

Then divorced.

She returned home and became her mother's primary caretaker due to the supposed misfortune of not having a family. By her mid-40s, she no longer physically or mentally resembled the happy aunt she had been in her youth. She seemed to disappear into her own body, weighed down by the significant weight she had gained, and carried a frown, making negative comments in every conversation, so we all started to keep silent. She stopped working on her cars and became a school bus driver. She enjoyed the light hours and filled her free time cleaning the house. 

"What's going on with Aunty? She seems so angry all the time."  

"Oh, she's just going to the change,"  

"She should try to be happy," 

"That's why she doesn't have a man now." 

"Just so bitter."

We all grew to forget the joy we once shared with our adventurous, life-loving aunt. We gradually learned to avoid the miserable lady who lived in the attic. We offered no grace, just avoidance and judgment.  

On the other hand, my mother remained very gracious and polite in public throughout her 40s and 50s. She had gone through a divorce, run a small business, and raised three kids. She smiled, laughed, and controlled her feelings publicly. Privately, she would cry out of nowhere. I very much perceived her crying as a weakness. She would cry over the most insignificant matters, and without context, I thought she might have been losing her mind; she had always been very gathered. She became stricken with grief and tried very hard to hide her pain, but never returned to the woman I knew as a child. 

It was hard for me to interpret these changes as a rite of passage because societal norms led us to believe that menopause was just the end of a menstrual cycle, not an abrupt, forced journey of transformation that could lead to either a self-reclamation or self-loss lasting up to 12 years or more. So we judged them as the angry black woman, or they held tightly to the graceful Christian, who hid her shame. Throughout this time, as their bodies were changing and their lives were imploding, they still had to work and maintain a source of income. 

Thank goodness, we have entered an era of unprecedented information on the subject of menopause, and celebrities well over 50 are sharing their menopausal experiences.  Yet, the average working-class woman in her 30s and 40s is unprepared for these natural changes or unclear how they will impact her body, mind, and spirit. A recent study from the University of Virginia highlighted that many perimenopausal symptoms are understudied, and the "psychological symptoms associated with menopause, like anxiety, depression, and irritability, appeared well before the physical symptoms". It also found that these symptoms peaked among women aged 41 to 45 but may begin as early as 36. Just like when preteens experience menstruation earlier than what is considered "typical", if you are not expecting this change to occur, it can feel scary and isolating, and learning more can feel taboo. 

Whenever our bodies undergo significant changes, we internally reconstruct our sense of self. We may feel ashamed to fully unpack what we are experiencing, as it signals a loss of youth. As we transition to elders in a society that forces youth values, we feel vulnerable to losing our livelihoods or place in our society/community.  Many women are suffering in silence, primarily because we, as our mothers and grandmothers, have been trained not to speak of matters related to our health and mental conditions. However, we must destigmatize the shame; without conversations, we lose the relationships we need to endure this arduous change. The fabric of American society has undergone significant shifts. Women are working high-stress jobs, out-earning a potential partner, and living in communities without built-in support systems, extended families, faith communities, or other key relationships that are critical, and this isolation can lead to depression. The Centers for Disease Control reported that the highest rate of suicide among women occurs between the ages of 45 and 64. Smack dab in the middle of menopause. 

Women start families later than previous generations, manage complex jobs, and support aging parents. We are tired and have the right to rage, cry, and sit in the fog, but we need each other more than ever. In my role as an executive coach, I have listened to accomplished women who suddenly convince themselves that they aren't able to lead any longer, feel like giving up, without any investigation into hormonal support. When I suggest that the feeling of hopelessness could be a sign of perimenopause, which leads to a response of "No, I am still ovulating," or "I am not that old." 

It all starts with a conversation to validate women's diverse experiences during middle age. We have to be willing to discuss the changes in our bodies with one another, including men and children. Then, we advocate for policies that invest in women and families and provide pathways for shared learning. We need sage leaders in the workforce who aren't silenced or dismissed. In conjunction with passing a comprehensive national Paid Leave policy, 

Menopausal workplace protection is essential for this generation of working women and those who will follow. Several states are now advancing legislation focused on menopause and perimenopause education, which is a critical first step. Rhode Island passed the first law to support working women in menopause. The law, which took effect in June 2025, mandates that employers with four or more employees must provide reasonable accommodations for employees experiencing menopause-related conditions—an essential first step toward socializing and improving workplace protections for menopausal women.  

While we are making progress, we need to expand the conversation and organize across racial and economic lines. Black women experience more significant impacts as symptoms start earlier than those of other groups. Managing hormonal changes, while sustaining a career, being a caregiver, and all the aspects of being a woman of a certain age, is beyond difficult. Now add in race, paycheck-to-paycheck status, and not having the language, resources for medical care, and space to process, and it is heartbreaking. We must continue to organize and build a state-by-state strategy to advance workplace protections for women across many lines of difference. 

For all the women who are constantly awake in the middle of the night, imagine that you lived in a tiny village, and all the women are up in the middle of the night. Instead of doom scrolling, they meet in the village square and dance in the moonlight. It takes a village to raise a kid, and a village of women, ready to support one another through life's biological changes. It's okay to accept the new you. She may be angry, overly reflective, direct, and a little more scattered; she earned it. There is no shame in the passage from perimenopause to being postmenopausal. It is more shameful to live in a society that doesn't wrap its arms around women dealing with complex biological changes.

If you or a team member needs coaching support for managing teams during perimenopause/menopause, please schedule a time with me.