My Story - I didn't know I was this ignorant...

I thought my period would one day stop, just like that! And life would continue happily ever after… No more period! No more pain and no more discomfort. That’s how I though menopause would happen.

So clueless.

My name is Vonayi and I was born in Zimbabwe. I am four things that I cannot deny:

I am a woman.

I am black.

I am African.

I pray.

AND I was taught to be a proud, strong black woman – in all things. And so I am or thought I was.. Oh, and I’m an X gen.

My gender. My colour. My traditions and customs. My religion. All these have and continue to shape who I am, who I am becoming and who I will be. Some might think, come on… .but I tell you, these badges I have carried with me since birth are serious business. They are a part of me; they are ingrained in me, and they are me. My thinking, my attitude, my language, my responses, and my capacity – are all influenced by these badges. They have undoubtedly coloured my responses and attitude to menopause.

Not too long ago it dawned on me in hindsight that I was transitioning into menopause. This was years after I had entered the perimenopause stage. Strange how you think you are educated – only to find that menopause played you one. Maybe just before my mid-forties, I must have gone into perimenopause; I look back on some of the symptoms I started experiencing then. One of the first ones was the thinning of my hair right at the top of my head, leading to complete hair loss, leaving that part of my head smoother than a baby’s bottom. I put it down to stress and read all I could on alopecia. I have since spent hundreds of pounds on hair oils and portions to no avail. I have experienced over forty symptoms between then and now and believed I was suffering from various illnesses, like bowel cancer, skin cancer, young onset dementia, withcraft and many other things. My life was upside down; to be honest, I had no life. I was not motivated to do anything. The strong hardworking proud African woman seemed to be fading away. I thought I was dying; I was lonely; I was in a pit that I could not explain to anyone. I felt that I had failed myself. I was a disappointment – why could I not be a firebrand, powerhouse woman like others? I had become a shell or shadow of myself. I had no energy to think or do anything other than to feel sorry for myself. I was ashamed to feel this helpless and worthless. Where was she, the African Queen, raised to rise above all challenges?

I vividly remember praying for my mind – I could not remember things, names, where I had put things. I could lose my train of thought just like that and could not concentrate on anything for long. I was really scared – was this early onset dementia? Was the devil stealing my mind? Was it witchcraft – someone trying to steal my mind? (Listen despeartae times, desperate thoughts). Every day for over two years, my mind was a daily prayer point – Lord, restore my mind! I experienced pain at the bottom of my feet, sharp, excruciating pain if I walked more than 100 metres and start to limp. I experienced pain in every joint in my body. I am like a hundred-year-old lady getting up in the mornings, taking me some time in between groans and sighs to straighten up and make my way to the bathroom. I was constantly exhausted, my body itched, my tummy was either bloated or I ha IBS and my memory was like a sieve. And despite all these red flags, it took me a long time before the lights finally came on – menopause!!! That dawning came with the nightly visitors, the night sweats…they were relentless, drenching me every night and leaving me limp like a rag doll. 2, 3, 4 times a night. My fan became my best friend at night.

But oh, the joy on discovering that I was not about to die! This was menopause, a natural progression that every woman experienced. Really? So why the silence? Now my next problem… who to talk to about this exciting discovery; I needed advice on what I should do. I asked family and friends, but I hit a road block. I desperately wanted/needed to know if they’d experienced what I was going through and what it had been like for them. I wanted to compare notes but I drew a blank. No one was talking, to be fair none fully understood. Some hadn’t clicked that what they went through was menopause. Let’s not even start on the myths; that’s a whole topic for another day. Oh…and I didn’t give God a break either –He heard from me. WHY God? Why did this have to be so hard? What exactly was your plan for and through this? I wondered if this was another one to put on grandma Eve. Rightly or wrongly I did get upset that this was one more thing that women had to go through – as if we didn’t have enough already, puberty, periods, birthing and now menopause.

The next best thing I could do was to educate me, so I began to read all things menopause. I wanted to know WHY menopause happened. What caused it- what was happening and what could be done to support my struggling body, mind and emotions. My reading led me to the main cause - hormone imbalances. I discovered just how important oestrogen, progesterone, and testosterone are to my health and wellbeing, to every woman’s health and wellbeing. This discovery was like finding the happy pill for my life. There was a reason for how rubbish I was feeling, and there were solutions – sweet heaven! I wanted to tell the world, hey, I’ m menopausal, be patient with me. To every woman, I wanted to tell them, hey, you are either perimenopausal, menopausal or post-menopausal, whichever stage you’re in, please look after and love yourself. Please find out more. I diagnosed every woman I met who complained about mood swings, tiredness, joint pain and brain fog. Are you sure you’re not menopausal?

That’s how excited I was.

As I said, my community is black, African and Christian. NOOO, we don’t talk much about menopause; it’s taboo. I have been on blogs by other cultures and leant a lot, but their responses to menopause differ from how I, as an African woman, would and as a CHRISTIAN. As Christians, how are we supposed to respond to it? How do we treat menopause in marriage? What do our African men know about it?

African women were raised differently; our values and traditions differ, and even our myths on menopause are different. We are a long way off, but we are starting to talk. My African sisters, it's up to us to educate our community on menopause – Menopause is not the end, but attitude and knowledge are everything. We must be the change we want to see taking place. Menopause must surely be more than this suffering and discomfort – lets look past all that and not allow the symptoms to define us.

I am a proud black African woman living n the UK having left Africa 20 years ago.. I am a mum to 2 adult sons, and I’m not ashamed for them to hear me talking about menopause so that we can normalise it in our home. I am a wife, and I had to talk to my husband about what I was experiencing. It was too big for me to hide nor carry on my own, I needed his support.

I am an author and bok writing coach; I use my writing to encourage others. Since getting on the menopause journey, I am now a menopause champion, advocate and Executive Coach, supporting others through their menopause journey.

This is my story, my journey to knowledge and empowerment and I'm sure you have your own story to share too. Let's break the culture of silence and raise a generation of strong and empowered women for tomorrow.

#menopause

#breakthesilence

#Bamewomen

#menopausesupport

#blackmenopause