My last period was at the beginning of this year. And I know, I know — technically it is too early to celebrate. The official medical definition of menopause is going 12 consecutive months without a menstrual period 1 . But honestly? I cannot stop smiling.

Because the idea that I might never, ever have a period again? That I might be done with the bleeding, the cramps, the pads, the tampons, and in my case — the absolutely horrible, exhausting pain?

That is not a loss. That is a liberation.

Now, I know Instagram is absolutely drowning in perimenopause symptoms right now. And it is fabulous how openly and honestly we are finally talking about this. Hot flashes, brain fog, mood swings — I hear you, I know they are real. But can we talk about the side of this story that deserves so much more glory?

Because I have a theory.

The fear of menopause? The idea that we are somehow "past our prime" — less relevant, less desirable, less useful once our periods stop? I think that was invented by people who were very, very threatened by what happens to a woman when she stops apologising for taking up space.