For most of my life, I’ve worn many hats – a mother, a community leader, and a Chinese migrant building a new life in a new country. I’ve balanced family, work, and cultural expectations, always moving forward with resilience and grace. But nothing prepared me for menopause.
It crept up on me. At first, it was just a few nights of restless sleep, a strange nervous energy coursing through my body, and a creeping sense of unease. I told myself it was stress, work, or perhaps just getting older. Then came the night sweats, numbness in my arms, and a racing mind at bedtime. My body felt unfamiliar, as if it were betraying me.
I remember the moment it clicked. I was talking to an older woman in my community, sharing my strange new experiences, when she simply said, “Oh, that’s menopause.” Just like that. No drama, no fear – just recognition. It was a relief to put a name to it. But relief didn’t mean resolution. I still had to figure out how to navigate this new reality.
When I saw my GP, she confirmed what I suspected. Instead of immediately prescribing medication, she advised me to monitor my cholesterol, exercise more, and manage my weight – things I had always associated with aging, not necessarily menopause.
So, I took charge. I returned to the gym, tried Pilates, swam whenever I could. I cut down on coffee and embraced herbal teas, letting their warmth soothe me before bed. I became more mindful of my diet, choosing lighter meals in the evening. Gradually, things started to shift – my sleep improved, my cholesterol stabilised, and most importantly, I felt more in control.
Yet, despite my progress, I had a stark realisation – no one talks about menopause. Research from Pukka reveals that for women over 40, menopause is a major sleep disruptor – 81% experience difficulties falling and staying asleep. Hot flushes, night sweats, and frequent trips to the bathroom rob us of rest, and leave us exhausted before the day even begins. In many multicultural communities, especially among Asian women, it remains a deeply private matter. We’re influenced to hold onto our struggles, presenting only our best selves to the world. But silence helps no one. Too many women endure menopause in isolation, believing their experiences are unique when, in reality, we are all navigating the same storm.
This has to change. We need more in-language resources, culturally relevant health programs, and trusted community leaders to start the conversation. Many migrant women lack access to information in their native languages or feel uncomfortable discussing menopause with a GP. If we don’t make this information accessible, we risk leaving many women behind.
Younger generations also have a vital role to play. They are more connected to mainstream society and can help bridge the gap – assisting their mothers and aunts by sharing information, offering practical support, and most importantly, listening. Imagine if intergenerational conversations about menopause became commonplace—at dinner tables, in community groups, or even over a simple cup of tea. How much easier would this journey be if no one had to face it alone?
To any woman entering this phase: be kind to yourself. Seek support from your community. Talk openly with healthcare professionals. Adjust your lifestyle as needed. And to families: listen without judgment. Sometimes, the most valuable support isn’t grand gestures – it’s simply being present, sharing a meal, or offering a warm conversation.
Menopause isn’t an ending – it’s a new beginning. It’s a time to reconnect with yourself and to prioritise your well-being in ways you may never have before. It’s a chance to step into this new stage of life with confidence, wisdom, and grace. By breaking the silence, we ensure that no woman has to go through it alone.
Top photo source: Supplied/John Zeng
