«There is a lot of strength in the menopause»

Mrs Hosner, you are 45 years old. Do you feel the first signs of the menopause?

Yes, it started for me at the age of 42. Out of nowhere, I got palpitations before and during my period, gained a lot of weight while maintaining the same eating and exercise behaviour and started waking up several times a night. I became thinner-skinned, my skin became flabbier and the consistency of my menstrual blood changed.

In what way?

The blood became lumpy. Half bats plopped out, so-called clots. These are blood clots that can form due to the change in hormone composition during the perimenopause, i.e. the years before your last period. If I hadn't known so much about it, I would have panicked.

There are different phases of the menopause, right?

That's right, there are four phases: Premenopause, perimenopause, menopause and postmenopause. The term perimenopause is in the process of establishing itself as a synonym for the menopause among the general public.

Every woman experiences the menopause in her own way. There is no single pattern.

Many women don't realise that this phase starts in their early 40s and lasts around ten years. How intensely the menopause and, above all, its symptoms are perceived is individual for each woman. I think this is very important information: every woman experiences the menopause in her own way. There is no one menopause pattern.

By symptoms, you mean familiar symptoms such as hot flushes, sleep disorders or emotional rollercoasters. In contrast, which symptoms do women attribute too little to the menopause - or not at all?

Depression, joint pain, memory lapses, migraines, incontinence, cardiac arrhythmia, dry eyes, vaginal dryness or loss of libido are often not associated with the menopause.

You have been studying the female cycle professionally for over ten years and wrote the book «Back to the Roots - Cyclical Living with Immense Joy» four years ago. How can knowing about your own cycle take the pressure off a mum's everyday life?

Those who live cyclically use the female cycle with its four different phases as an inner compass. This has a lot to do with self-acceptance and self-care, knowing what makes you tick, prioritising correctly, planning efficiently and setting boundaries; noticing what is possible and what is not, what you can leave or delegate. I therefore find the integration of cycle knowledge invaluable for everyday family life.

Please give us an example.

It makes a big difference whether a woman is surprised by ovulation and menstruation every month and thinks: «Aha, that's why I was so keen on my partner or in such a bad mood the days before». Or whether she has these two cyclical poles on her radar and organises her energy accordingly. Mums can, for example, cook in advance for the family so that they can fall back on it on the day of the heaviest bleeding. Or plan a romantic date with their partner around ovulation.

It is also about a sensible energy balance.

That's right. The cycle formula «I bleed about two weeks after ovulation» can be groundbreaking for the everyday planning and quality of life of both mothers and teenage daughters. For example, if women regularly exhaust themselves around the time of ovulation and squeeze in too many appointments, they are more likely to become exhausted before or during menstruation or experience an increase in premenstrual symptoms such as irritability, anxiety, headaches or mood swings. If a mother knows that she has no nerves for the children in the cycle phase before the menstrual period, she can plan enough quiet time or involve the children more in the household.

The cycle phase before menstruation - you talk about the inner autumn - is also the time of the menopause. What experiences from your cycle observations can you use for the perimenopause?

One conclusion is that transitions are important and are usually underestimated. The perimenopause is one such transition. How do I get from summer fullness to clear autumn air? It doesn't happen overnight, but with many foggy days and diffuse weather conditions. For many, the menopause is a time of vulnerability.

The number of first-time mothers over the age of 35 in Switzerland has tripled from 10 to 30 per cent since the 1970s. Mothers' hormonal hullabaloo is therefore increasingly coinciding with their children's puberty. What happens then?

Two phases of remodelling collide, two construction sites with profound hormonal and neurological changes. The frontal lobe, for example, is realigned in both. On the one hand, the beginning of fertility, a great blossoming. Young people get going, are full of juice and become sexually active. For mothers, fertility is coming to an end.

A withering, to stay with the image of the flower.

This image bothers me immensely. It says: you are no longer fertile, so you are no longer important or desirable. Your time is over. I have therefore looked for a new image: the Hagenbutte. A bright red symbol for the power and potential that this change harbours. The time of the rose is over, now comes midlife with the power of the Hagenbutte.

For many, the menopause is a time of change and decisions.

What potential do you see for mothers?

From a cyclical point of view, calm returns. You are no longer exposed to these hormonal fluctuations every month. The oestrogen fog in your head disappears, as gynaecologist and author Christiane Northrup puts it. There is more clarity. This can release a lot of energy, which mums can use more for their own interests and new tasks outside the family. For many, it is a time of conscious change and decisions: What still suits me, what doesn't? Where do I want to go? Many start with further training, separate from their partner or reorient themselves professionally.

Is the mother also a leading figure and role model?

Ideally, yes. She has 35 years of cycle and life experience since her first period. Physical motherhood transforms into spiritual motherhood, as psychologist Julia Onken calls it. I like the idea of the menopause as the start of a new creative phase of life. An upgrade towards more self-determination, which also comes with a certain relief: the question of children is finally off the table, as is youth. We no longer have to do a lot of things. And no more pleasing. There is an enormous amount of strength in this.

You mentioned the hormonal changes. What else plays a role during the menopause?

Some women react more sensitively to hormonal changes, others struggle more with their metabolism or nervous system. In alternative medicine, for example in Ayurveda, there are various typologies. Such knowledge can also be helpful. When it comes to the menopause, Nadja Röthlisberger, a naturopath friend of mine, likes to say: «It's not all to do with hormones. We also just get older.» I think hyperfocussing on hormones is wrong.

During the perimenopause, things can still get heated when the thin-skinned mother meets the irritable teenager.

It can, but it doesn't have to. As with cyclical life, it makes a big difference whether the mother is aware of what is going on inside her or not. In other words, whether she shows understanding for herself and her child, builds the necessary buffer zones into her life, talks about it with family and friends and seeks professional help if the symptoms are severe.

The relationship level is also an important aspect in both phases.

And that is the relationship to oneself and to the outside world. For the daughter, for example, this means What friendships do I maintain? How do I relate to teachers and specialist trainers? Is there a first love? And for the mother: How is my relationship with my partner or children? With friends and work colleagues?

And finally, there is also a social and therefore a political dimension. How are women perceived in puberty and in midlife? Are they considered important? How much space is given to them in these times of upheaval? Are they encouraged, supported and valued?

How can fathers support their teenagers and their partners?

Firstly, by knowing and understanding what is going on. While puberty is recognised as a turbulent time of upheaval and there are numerous contact points for this, the menopause still receives far too little attention and support, especially in the world of work. Fathers can play a socio-political role in raising awareness of the menopause.

Care work and mental load can then be analysed and renegotiated. Where in the household can the father take on more tasks? Is the current workload still right or could it be adjusted? I know couples where the mother increased her workload during the perimenopause and the father reduced his. This has significantly improved the family atmosphere.

Until a few years ago, the topic of menopause was taboo. Can the growing awareness of this also be an opportunity for mothers and their teenagers?

Menopause meets puberty: we're entering uncharted territory. Isn't that exciting? I also see it as an opportunity for the mother-teenager relationship when you're in the same boat and can say: I understand you very well, your emotional ups and downs, your insecurities and fears about the future. Your irregular periods. The drastic physical and mental changes. I feel the same way.

How can I grow older with dignity as a woman? There is still a lot of room for improvement.

When does it become problematic?

Many mothers experience the menopause as the last straw that breaks the camel's back. Too much has built up in everyday family life over the years. It becomes problematic when mothers withdraw inwardly and isolate themselves. They bury themselves in grief and refuse to engage in dialogue. Or, conversely, when they embark on a mission where everything revolves around yoga and a vegan diet, for example, while the teenager shrugs off fast food. Conflicts are inevitable. But even if the roles are reversed: It's not the teenager who needs to understand their mum, but the mum who needs to understand their teenager.

The menopause can also be suppressed.

And trigger great fears about their own body, ageing, attractiveness or sexuality. This can manifest itself in a tense cult of youth in which the mother competes visually with her daughter. This does little to help the process of cutting the cord. Repression leads to loneliness. The central question, also a social one, remains: How can I, as a woman in midlife, grow older with dignity? There is still a lot of room for improvement.

What is difficult for mothers to bear?

That is very individual. A friend recently told me that she had observed the same relationship patterns in her teenage daughter: she too had completely subordinated herself to her first love. Watching your child repeat their own mistakes can be very painful.

In addition, it no longer wants to be mothered.

Yes, this role is dissolving. How can I be there for my teenager now? Who am I when I'm no longer the cook-wash-cry-clean-cuddle-read-aloud mummy? How do I fill my time when the children become more independent? Giving yourself honest answers here prevents empty nest syndrome.

What do you think mums struggle with most during the menopause?

I find the growing sandwich situation in which many of them find themselves serious: squeezed between job and household, parents in need of care and pubescent children in their career choices. Many women also sleep poorly during this phase of their lives. This is despite the fact that sufficient and restful sleep becomes increasingly important during the perimenopause.

The topic of sleep seems to catch up with mothers again and again in new forms from the birth of their child.

It's like this. I know many people who can only go to sleep when their teenager has returned home safely after going out. Constantly worrying that something could happen to the child creates a climate of fear that feeds conflict.

What helps them in such situations?

Talk honestly with your teenager about your own feelings and worries. Open up to communication at eye level. With regard to sleep: power naps throughout the day have a very positive effect. They also help with hot flushes.

Fortunately, there are also many cheerful scenes with teenagers.

Oh yes, when a tired mum stomps around the house in her pyjamas in the evening and her teenager spontaneously brings friends home. Or, conversely, when there are twice as many pairs of shoes in the entrance to the house in the morning. I find life with teenagers incredibly enriching. They keep the whole family on their toes, form a bridge to the next generation with their sometimes completely new topics and can be a mental and emotional fountain of youth for parents.

Why don't we just giggle along from time to time and let ourselves be carried away by this youthful light-heartedness?

Exactly. When did we become so hard on ourselves? So humourless? So realistic? Where have our dreams flown to? Speaking of dreams: I find myself picking up the thread of youthful passions again. I would love to have a motorbike again and have recently started taking piano lessons again.