Hi Reader

I recently found myself talking to my male boss about menstrual cycles and it ended up being one of those conversations that stayed with me afterwards, not because we came up with some groundbreaking solution for women's health in the workplace, but because of how refreshingly normal it felt to talk about it.

At one point we both acknowledged something really simple.

I will never truly know what it feels like to be a man, and he will never truly know what it feels like to be a woman.​
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We can learn about each other's biology.

We can understand things intellectually.

We can read the research, listen to other people's experiences and become much better informed.

But there will always be a difference between understanding something cognitively and actually having the bodily experience of living it.

I can explain what it feels like when my hormones shift across my menstrual cycle. I can describe the difference in my energy. I can explain what PMS has felt like for me at its worst, how much my cycle has changed over the years and how differently I sometimes experience myself across the month.

But he can't feel that experience.

In exactly the same way that there will be things about being a man that I can understand logically but will never experience in my own body. And actually, the more I've thought about that conversation, the more I think this extends far beyond men and women. We'll never completely know what it's like to be another person.

Even another woman with a menstrual cycle. My experience isn't yours. Something I find manageable might completely floor somebody else. And something that affects me significantly might barely register for you. Even two women with similar jobs, similar lifestyles and similar menstrual cycles can experience their bodies very differently.

Which is why I think compassion and curiosity are so important. Because sometimes we don't need somebody else to completely understand our experience. We need them to believe us when we tell them about it.​
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And that's what I appreciated about this conversation with my boss. I wasn't shut down. I didn't feel embarrassed for bringing it up.

He was interested and he asked questions. We talked about the basic phases of the menstrual cycle and how our hormones fluctuate, and I was able to explain some of what I've spent years learning about my own body.

There wasn't a particular outcome. There didn't need to be. Being listened to was valuable in itself. And I think that's something we sometimes overlook when we're talking about women's health in the workplace.

We jump very quickly to policies and accommodations and what employers should be doing (all of which can absolutely have a place) but perhaps one of the simplest starting points is creating environments where people feel able to have the conversation in the first place.

Especially in professions where these conversations haven't traditionally happened very much. Law is still a profession where many of us have learned to be polished, capable and professional regardless of what might be happening underneath.

You turn up, advise the client, hit the deadline, get the work done. And I'm not suggesting we shouldn't do those things.

But being professional doesn't require us to pretend we don't have bodies.

People have health conditions, caring responsibilities, difficult things happening at home and days when they simply aren't operating at 100%. None of that disappears when we put our work clothes on.

And I think there's something very powerful about being able to acknowledge that while still being trusted as competent, capable professionals. Because understanding somebody's circumstances isn't the same as lowering expectations of them. Sometimes it simply helps us work together better.

Our conversation actually went on to something bigger. We talked about health and wellbeing within the firm more generally, and I mentioned that I'd be very happy to offer group health coaching. The thinking was pretty straightforward: supporting people's health can also support how they feel and function at work. He was receptive to the idea, which was lovely.

But what stayed with me most wasn't really the potential health coaching. It was the openness.

Because I know not everybody feels comfortable talking about their menstrual cycle at work. And I know not everybody has a manager they would feel safe discussing it with.

I'm also not suggesting that everyone should march into work on Monday morning and announce what day of their cycle they're on (I mean, personally, I’d happily wear a top declaring “PMS, approach with caution”. In all seriousness, privacy matters too. You get to decide what you share, with whom and when.

But I would love for women's health to become something we can talk about without automatically feeling that doing so makes us less professional.

And perhaps that starts outside the workplace too. With partners, friends, family, the men in our lives and other women.

Sometimes we assume somebody won't understand, so we don't give them the opportunity to try. And sometimes, of course, they genuinely won't understand. That's OK too. They can still listen, be curious and believe you.

And they can ask: What would be helpful?

I think that's a pretty good starting point for most human relationships, actually. You don't have to have lived someone's experience to have compassion for it. And you don't always have to fix what they're telling you.

Sometimes being willing to listen without dismissing, minimising or immediately trying to solve it is enough to make somebody feel considerably less alone in whatever they're navigating.

That's also a big part of how I approach coaching.

I can bring my training, my knowledge and my own experiences as a woman working in a demanding profession, but I will never assume that means I automatically know what it's like to be you.

Sometimes the first thing we need is simply somewhere to say: "This is what's happening. This is how I'm feeling. And I'm not really sure what to do with it."

And have someone listen.

So I'm going to open up a few spaces over the coming weeks for free 30-minute conversations.

Nothing formal. No expectation that you've figured out exactly what's wrong, and certainly no pressure to work with me afterwards.

Just a friendly conversation with someone who understands what it's like to be functioning perfectly well on paper while quietly wondering whether your stress, energy, eating, sleep or menstrual cycle are trying to tell you something.

If that sounds like something you could use right now, reply to this email and tell me what's been going on.

Or, if you don't need support but this email has made you think about something, I'd still love to hear from you: Have you ever talked about your menstrual cycle or women's health at work, and what was the response?

Just hit reply. I genuinely love hearing the conversations these emails start.

With care and wellness,

Cat