14 minute read
This Is What The Menopause Looks Like - Catrin Osborne
This Is What The Menopause Looks Like
Catrin Osborne
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Catrin Osborne is a Kent based artist who gained an MA in Performance Design and Practice at Central St Martins College of Art and Design in London ten years ago. Following a challenging and early menopause herself, she set out to discover other people’s experiences and understanding of the menopause. She interviewed a number of women, photographing them and scribing their stories and experiences.
The interaction and dialogue culminated in an exhibition which she also crowdfunded whilst waiting for (successful) Arts Council funding. This enabled her to continue with her project, travelling further afield to gain deeper understanding of individual women’s stories.
This year she began touring with her installation, including a day of events in Bristol’s Arnolfini where she highlighted her work alongside other artists and their workshops.
Catrin travelled the UK meeting menopausal women and recording their positive and negative experiences of the menopause. She wanted to celebrate women going through peri and post menopause and give them a voice.
All women will go through the menopause but, like many other experiences women in our culture go through, it is still hidden, secretive and shameful.
My mum had warned me of her early menopause (at 44), but she had minimised the impact and her thoughts around it. She had been a full time teacher, bringing up three children and caring for elderly parents, so had limited time to think about her own experience.
I spent about 18 months with very difficult physical symptoms, like severe headaches, insomnia, and anxiety. I was trying to avoid going on HRT because there had been so much negative press about it and older women at work advised me not to. I felt isolated as no one my age seemed to be experiencing it. I felt I hit rock bottom. I then met Diane Danzebrink through a menopause yoga workshop, and she told me about gel based HRT made from yams and suitable for vegetarians. My doctor fortunately prescribed this for me, and I began taking Oestrogel. It was the following year, whilst I was devising my yoga course - The Embodied Menopause - that press headlines announced the cancer link with HRT was flawed.
I began interviewing and photographing women in 2019 and produced a series of portraits. I then looked at how I could extend this. My partner had given me a desk to write on in the spare room just before the pandemic but then he had to use it to work from home during lockdown. I lost my job as a yoga teacher, resorting to teaching on line in the evenings. Then the lake I was cold water swimming in to help with my symptoms shut down. I set up a little desk in the corner of the living room, wrote to the Arts Council, began to look at booking venues for a tour, and decided to travel to those venues to meet people to photograph/interview if my bid was successful.
When I gained the funding, I felt a huge responsibility to make sure the people I met and interviewed were diverse. On the advice of Amy from POW Thanet (Power Of Women), I used a wheel of privilege to make sure that I achieved this. I still feel there are a few gaps, but I’m fairly happy with how diverse the people are. It was important to me that my photographs represented people from all demographics, and people looking at the exhibition could find similarities with the subjects.
By January 2022 I’d completed all the photographs and interviews except for Cardiff. Omicron hit and I was unsure whether to go but an old friend I know through the circus invited me to stay so I went. I’m really glad I did because I met some amazing women and ended up in Newport near where my Grandma and Grandad were born. It felt like the end of a very personal journey.
I met and photographed Kat in Bristol who went through premature ovarian failure at 39. They have since written a show called Dry Season which is currently touring the UK. I also met another Cat in Greater Manchester who went through it in her 20s. She has now found the treatment she needed, HRT, but it was a struggle to get. She is an ultra-marathon runner and has an adopted son, an awesome role model for the next generation I feel!
I didn’t really get a chance to speak to men about their experiences or perspectives on the female menopause, although I would be very interested in meeting and photographing a trans man about it. I had to turn away women who wanted to be involved but would like to revisit the project to gain a wider societal view.
I think the Davina McCall documentary has encouraged more women to be less afraid to take HRT and it will help younger women, who are about to go through menopause, think and plan more for theirs. My peers and me are about the same age as Davina McCall and we shout about stuff, being ex ravers, ex punks, Generation X, born in the 70s.
Through my generation speaking out about their experiences I’d like to think that the next few generations will be better informed and better equipped for their menopause. Menopause isn’t an illness, or a secret, it’s a healthy transition into - in the words of David Bowie - ‘the person you always should have been’.
My priority now is to create a book of my pictures as so many visitors to the touring exhibition are asking for it. I am also planning a group show next year, with Tindara Sidoti-McNary, who I photographed, making the video installations and Serena Bobowski, who has produced the Crone Interviews sound installation and curated the first exhibition of my photographs from 2019 at her Bad Fruit try out night for art created by women.
You can see more details and information at Catrin’s website: osborneandwhat.co.uk and Instagram: @catrinosborne
An exhibition of the work, featuring the seven Sheffield women, is going up at Weston Park Museum, part of Sheffield Museums on Monday 19 September for three months.
Cat. Rochdale. Age 36. Works at Rochdale Pioneers museum, Mum, and ultra marathon runner.
When I started HRT I felt better almost the next day. I still don’t sleep that well and the night sweats are horrendous. I know I’m trying to find which HRT is right for me. You just become far more in tune with your body. I was referred to a specialist gynaecologist who suggested I go on the gel and have the merina coil fitted. I also explained my symptoms to a private consultant who thought I would benefit from a testosterone implant.
I’m so proud to live in Rochdale, but there’s no getting away from the fact that it is poor. Socially and economically we’re a very divided community. There are so many women in Rochdale not getting help because they’re not properly educated or confident enough to be able to go back and say “No, you’re wrong”. It really saddens and angers me. It’s not fair on my community. The NHS is doing the best it can, it’s just over-stretched. The training for medical professionals on the menopause is really limited and there needs to be more awareness.
I run marathons and ultra-marathons. Someone’s got to! I’m not massively into the competitions although I adore running. When we adopted our child and I became a mum last year I wanted to do something to remind myself who I am. I love being a mum, but I also want to be me.
Debs. Islington, London. Age 51. Civil Servant.
I’ve started to suffer with the brain fog which is frustrating. I can identify what it is as other women have described it to me, but nobody can prepare you for the complete blank that happens. For someone who’s generally able to express themselves quite eloquently it’s quite unnerving. I’m just going into it and it’s hard to know what to do because the advice that’s out there is so contradictory, and the symptoms are so contradictory. I’ve thought about HRT, but my doctor refused to discuss it with me. She said as I’m still having periods I’m not menopausal.
Rachel. Stoke Newington, London. Age 52. Receptionist in a care home.
Low moods, bordering depression. You don’t know whether it’s the menopause or not, because there’s a lack of information out there. Less tolerant of bullshit. I can look forward to developing a different life. Not getting PMT and having to think about carrying sanitary wear with me. The not caring what other people think. It’s like my daughter’s 17 and she won’t leave the house without make up. It’s all about what she looks like, whereas now I don’t care.
Gemma. Margate, Kent. Age 39. Social prescriber for the NHS.
I was in severe pain, things weren’t how they were supposed to be. I went to the GP, and I felt ignored. I was ringing every month about the same problem. My first appointment was in February and by July I only ended up in A&E because I rang the hospital in London and the nurse said “you need to go to A&E”. I was diagnosed and treated for stage 3 cervical cancer. The radiotherapy and chemo have caused me to go into premature ovarian failure. I was told it would happen, but not that it would happen instantly. I found that really hard - trying to recover from all that treatment, and experiencing the symptoms such as hot flushes, insomnia and extreme night sweats. We were trying to get pregnant before the diagnosis and now I won’t be able to have children naturally. I still thought I had plenty of time.
Jacqui. Sheffield. Age 54. Textile Artist.
The rage is frightening because it’s almost uncontrollable and you don’t know what to do with it. That’s scary. I remember having a conversation about women in their 40’s and 50’s and being like, “They’re horrible, aren’t they?” I had that conversation! I feel terrible now. There are certain tropes, like the ‘Angry Black Woman’ I don’t want to fit into, but at the same time I am really annoyed that people have set this up because you need to give us a break, this is really hard. I now think that women of that age are justifiably angry, there’s a reason why we’re annoyed. We’re not allowed to talk about it, and if you do, it’s like, “Aw, look at you, is it that time for you?” And you kind of think “Don’t do that, because it’s disrespectful.”
Black women are justified about being angry, we’re not angry about nothing, there’s a reason for it. I feel this way about being menopausal. The positive thing is it’s not about colour or creed or anything. It really pulls the women together. It connects us. I’m having some really great relationships with women my age and a little bit older. It’s a great sisterhood. That’s a huge positive.
The menopause is no respecter of colour, race, class, disability or neurodiversity… all you need to be is female. It’s true that you can also be non-binary or trans, but it’s one of the things where it is quite empowering to be a woman. It’s horrible, I think we should be honest about it.
Kat. Bristol. Age 39. Writer, Performer.
I stopped recognising the person that I was becoming and I didn’t like them. I was like “who is this paranoid, neurotic, insecure, over-emotional wreck?” I just felt feeble and weak. Like I should have been able to deal with this; I’d travelled, I’d lived in a truck. My resilience and sense of self was taken from me. I just didn’t know who I was anymore. Waking up really hot, panic attacks, getting really hot. At this stage everything had been interrupted because my Mum died. I told someone at work (who was in her 50’s) and she said “it sounds like a hot flush” so I went to the Dr. I couldn’t get an appointment, I burst into tears on the phone and said “I can’t cope”. I was told it was menopause.
Titus. Stoke Newington, London. Age 63. Cabinet Maker.
You just have to tough it out and not give a shit as the world is not on your side as an older woman. I feel less tired, my energy is better. As I get older I’m appreciating what I’ve got and valuing it as I know it’s not going to last forever.
Joyce. Cardiff. Age 50. Former grocer in Uganda, Mother, volunteer in Cardiff.
I’m originally from Uganda. I’ve been living in Cardiff for almost 16 years. I’m still an asylum seeker. I’m still awaiting my status.
I am 50 and started getting the signs last year. Sometimes I get a hot flush. You’re just sitting there, and you start sweating really badly and you think “Oh, is this a high fever or what?” Within seconds, you get cold and start shivering. You get confused; you don’t know exactly what’s wrong with your body. This might make you panic and think it’s something else because we don’t know it’s the menopause. A minute later you get annoyed about nothing! My friends were worried about me. They said “The Joyce we know? She was a lovely woman, laughing and joking, but when you ask her something small she gets annoyed so quick!” I didn’t realise those were the signs of menopause until I Googled it.
I had a hysterectomy 10 years ago, so I was thinking I might not go through it, but because they left my ovaries in, my hormones are still active and working like any other woman.
Lara. Ramsgate. Age 50. Independently Producing Sex-Positive / Feminist / Queer Performance & Cabaret since 2003.
@screamingalley
A major positive is I never wanted children, and I now can’t have children so people don’t pressure me into having children, or ask when I’m going to have them, which is great. Another positive is I haven’t had to lie about my age on OkCupid, because people presume that if you’re in your 40’s you’re there to have a kid, so they don’t want to go on a date with you, so I’ve had much better options on online dating.
Psychologically, there’s a kind of teenage energy that I’ve felt which is both good and bad. I had troublesome mood swings with periods; I have suppressed periods through most of life with the pill and coils. I think with the menopause those hormones that I’ve suppressed for years are back. The good is a kind of vibrancy, being very emotional, very present.