Little bits of tissue

A few years ago, a friend of mine and his wife celebrated the birth of their son. After her maternity leave, she returned to work but a week later she was in tears. Her boss had directed her to attend a week-long meeting in Nairobi, Kenya. When she explained she had a small baby and requested a replacement, her boss replied matter-of-factly: “You’re back from maternity leave, aren’t you?” Fortunately, she had a strong support system and spent her evenings in Nairobi expressing breast milk, ensuring her baby could continue nursing when she returned home. I’ve heard many horror stories but this one left a lasting impression on me.

Then there’s the matter of the physical and emotional challenges associated with menstruation and menopause. If we’re to discuss diversity and inclusiveness, we must address these issues as well. The former can leave one shivering from cramps and being overly self-aware, especially after lengthy meetings (like that instinct to pass one’s hand casually across her bottom upon standing, just to be certain everything’s in order). Whereas the latter can disrupt your hormones with hot flashes that no level of air conditioning can alleviate.

My experience and the embarrassment I felt was overwhelming: a slow, prickly heat began at the back of my neck, and then, suddenly, sweat poured down my face in the middle of my presentation. I held the pointer with one hand while wiping away the sweat with the other. By the time I returned to my seat, I was sure everyone was focused on the little white bits of tissue stuck all over my face. Suddenly, I empathised with all those elderly bald men I saw wiping their heads and faces vigorously with a face cloth. I used to feel embarrassed for them, thinking they should be more discreet. But now, sitting here with bits of tissue stuck to my face, I’d do anything for that wretched face cloth because there’s nothing discreet about menopause.