I’d looked forward to the menopause since my 20s. That may sound bizarre but, having managed heavy, painful periods since my teens, I eagerly awaited the days when I could be in touch with my natural body, cut out artificial hormones (which isn’t an option whilst I’m still menstruating), and have sex without niggling pregnancy worries. I was a huge fan-in-waiting and, as far as I was concerned, the sooner the better.
Then, about 18 months ago, Davina McCall made a documentary called. I didn’t watch it, because I was only 38 years old, and menopause was something I didn’t have to think about for at least 10 years, right? But I couldn’t avoid the avalanche of information that followed. The menopause was everywhere. At first, I welcomed it with open arms. Yay for women’s health
