Last week, my friends and I met up in Japan for one last hurrah before one of us gets repatriated. We chose Japan for its unbeatable mix of shopping and food, but as a delightful bonus, we arrived just as the cherry blossoms—sakura—were beginning to bloom.
Strolling under those delicate pink petals, I was struck by how fleeting yet breathtaking transitions can be. A year ago, I was in Dublin’s Herbert Park, surrounded by bright, defiant daffodils standing tall against the crisp spring air. Two different places, two different symbols—yet both reminding me of the same truth: change is inevitable, but it can also be beautiful.
Menopause, much like the seasons, is a transition we all navigate in our own way. Watching women in Japan and Ireland, I couldn’t help but reflect on how culture shapes our approach to this phase of life.
What’s Different?
In Japan, menopause is called konenki, which translates to “a period of changing years.” It’s seen as a natural transition, something to be accepted rather than battled. Women generally don’t discuss symptoms much, instead focusing on lifestyle and diet to maintain balance.
In Ireland, menopause is more openly acknowledged, often with medical interventions like Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT) and supplements. The Irish word for menopause is an mheanapás, though I’ve heard some women simply call it “The Change” or, more bluntly, “a piece of shite.”
What’s the Same?
No matter where you are, menopause is deeply personal—shaped by biology, lifestyle, and mindset.
Women everywhere seek community, whether through quiet understanding in Japan or more vocal, unapologetic discussions in Ireland.
And on a lighter note, both cultures seem to agree that a good drink helps. Whether it’s a contemplative sip of sake in a Japanese izakaya or a hearty pint in an Irish pub, one thing is universal: sometimes, you just need to toast to making it through another day.
Finding My Own Path: A Mix of East and West
How do we choose to handle menopause? Do we trust in nature and push through? Or do we embrace modern medicine and demand solutions? The answer doesn’t have to be one or the other—it can be both.
When my Irish doctor suggested HRT, I resisted. I’m the type who won’t take paracetamol unless I’m on the verge of collapse. My mother never used HRT, and neither did my friends back home. I filled the prescription but let it sit untouched.
Six months later, at my next check-up, my doctor asked how I was doing on HRT. I admitted I hadn’t taken it. “I’m managing menopause without it,” I said. “I think I’m doing okay.”
Dr. M gave me a look. “You do know you don’t get a rosette for that, right?”
That stopped me. Was I treating menopause like a competition I needed to win? A gold medal in unnecessary suffering where the only loser was me?
I finally tried HRT, and suddenly, it felt like a fog had lifted. The sky was blue again—metaphorically speaking of course, because in Ireland, it’s mostly cloudy. I had been fine without it, but with it, I felt great.
That didn’t mean I abandoned the konenki approach. I still prioritized a good diet, exercise, stress reduction, and better sleep. And most importantly, not admonishing other women for making different choices about how they managed their symptoms.
Now that I’m in the Philippines, my access to HRT is limited. I’ve had to find other ways to cope, but suffering in silence is not one of them. More than ever, I believe in talking about menopause openly—with friends, with strangers, with anyone willing to listen.
No woman should go through this season alone. Whether over sake, Guinness, or a Coke Zero (no more sugar for me), we can all share, learn, and laugh along the way.
