I remember every embarrassing moment clearly to this day, though quite a few years have passed since. One time I was sitting in my friend’s kitchen on an upholstered antique armchair that she had inherited from her grandmother and held dear. We were talking and drinking red wine when I suddenly felt the blood rushing out of me. In a fraction of a second it left my body, covered everything, ran down my clothes and was soaked up by my summer pants and the upholstery of my friend’s beloved armchair. I was so shocked that I jumped up immediately and all I could say was “Oh my god, I am so sorry, please forgive me!”. We had been friends with Eva since we were kids and we had supported each other in many situations, but I hadn’t expected to be apologizing to her soaked in my own blood.

Of course, this wasn’t the only embarrassing situation that I went through during the little over a year and a half of menopause. Time doesn’t always heal all wounds; looking back it was a very difficult and memorable year and a half. I was 53 when it started. Based on my age and symptoms it was obvious to me after the first few uncomfortable symptoms that I’d entered menopause. Hot flashes hit at the most unexpected moments; at night I frequently woke up to find myself drenched in sweat and I could squeeze the wetness from my sheets. By then it had already been ten years since I’d shared my bed with anyone, so nighttime difficulties literally happened behind closed doors. Sometimes others noticed the ever more regular daytime tiredness, which was made even more intangible by the associated forgetfulness.

As a research biologist, being well-organized and focused had been with me since the beginning of my career. It persisted even when I was writing my doctoral dissertation while pregnant, or when I was getting a divorce, raising children and learning languages at the same time. My academic life, the regular and active participation in conferences required organization. That is what I was used to, that is how I knew myself. During menopause I formed new habits. The combination of exhaustion and forgetfulness was not pleasant, but it remained manageable, for which I’m very grateful.

The most uncomfortable part of the change of life for me was the irregular cycle and the heavier menstruation. Even with the utmost care, multiple layers of sanitary towels would often soak through. And of course, always at the worst possible time.

Another memorable instance was when I was at a medical conference where I had been invited as a speaker. I was very proud to have got the opportunity to present my research results; I was excited and enthusiastic. Not long before I was due to go on stage, I went to the bathroom and found that my underwear had soaked through. Although I always had the right sanitary kit with me, having learnt from previous experience, I panicked: how was I going to solve this? A bloodstained suit would have been the end both humanly and professionally. I started my presentation with a few minutes’ delay, and multiple layers of sanitary towels and a tampon helped with the adequate moisture absorption. I will never forget the feeling when I stepped on the well-lit stage fearful and vulnerable, despite all my professional confidence and pride. The presentation ended up being a success, many congratulated me afterwards, but I still remember it with a heavy heart. I have never spoken to anyone about the minutes before going on stage.

I am 60 years old now; all of this happened over 7 years ago. My stomach churns to this day when I think of the embarrassing situations I got into during menopause. I don’t like talking about my difficulties, but I think it’s worth seeing that the change of life affects women’s lives more than most would imagine. New inhibitions, fears and anxiety emerge; you must be multiple steps and thoughts ahead of real life. You must choose a bigger bag that can accommodate the tampon and sanitary pad selection of an entire drugstore and opt for darker pants and skirts instead of lighter ones in preparation for a possible accident. You must have a change of clothes even on the easiest of workdays in case hot flashes hit. These may seem like small things, and perhaps they are not so easy to notice, but they are changes that we should talk more about, at least among ourselves.

I am happy to see that in recent years there has been more and more talk about this stage in women’s lives, and I, too, noticed that I recognize more quickly and easily if a woman in my environment, be they friends or colleagues, is dealing with menopause. We shouldn’t coyly turn a blind eye to hard days; instead, we should talk about them. The worst thing in the year and a half of menopause was feeling lonely in my relationships because I had no one to share what I was going through with. And there could have been, and perhaps it would have made that period easier.

I think the worst is over, but I still have health-related questions about the long-term consequences that I haven’t found satisfactory answers to. What do I mean? For instance, what are the long-term effects of lower estrogen levels? What can be done to prevent osteoporosis, dementia and cardiovascular diseases? As a woman of science, I’m eternally curious and I am definitely going to continue to discover the workings of my own body.