We Do Not Care: How social media revolution is laying bare the reality of menopause

Mercury

a day ago

Just over a month ago, an unremarkably-dressed, 45-year-old perimenopausal Florida mum posted a one-take video to her social media, and triggered a global movement.
Mum-of-three Melani Saunders had rushed to the shops, jumped back in the car, caught her reflection and had a good look at herself.
Hair dishevelled. Ill-fitting sports bra – it was the only one she could find. An outfit that was comfortable, but never going to pass muster on a catwalk. Not a scrap of make-up.
The content creator, struggling with the symptoms of perimenopause – insomnia, brain fog, anxiety, weight gain, hot flushes to name a few – laughed and realised she could not care less about how she looked in public.
Her bits were covered. She had shoes on. She had her groceries. So what?
Still in the carpark, she picked up her phone and started recording.
'We're about to start a perimenopause and menopause club, OK?,' her unscripted speech began.
'And it's gonna be called the We Do Not Care Club … that's four letters,' she continued, counting them off on her fingers: 'We. Do Not. Care … WDNC'.
What did that mean, she asked, before hilariously chronicling not just her outfit, but why she couldn't care less that her bra left 'everything swinging to one side … that is my situation … and I do not care'.
She critiqued the zero effort she'd put into her hair, wrapped the summation with a shrug, saying 'so that's it, that's the story, point blank, period', and invited commenters to add their thoughts on what they did not care about today.
It went nuts. Viral. Millions of fed-up women added their own WDNCs to join the club.
Whether it was chin hair, undone washing, the fact they'd considered smothering their partners for breathing (that one quickly saw many commenters offer the poster an alibi 'whatever time or place – she was with me'), the frank confessions flowed thick and fast: unadorned, unfiltered, unapologetic and hilarious.
WDNC chapters quickly popped up in other countries. Women 'of a certain age' – rarely are men described as being 'of a certain age' – had found their people.
Saunders' social media accounts went ballistic. Her followers ballooned from about 100,000 pre-WDNC to almost 1 million on TikTok, and another 850,000 on Instagram.
From the hundreds of thousands of comments posted with the same unpolished, no-BS bluntness and raw truth delivery, Saunders now chooses her favourites and reads them out in fresh posts.
She accessorises her deadpan delivery – she reads mostly in a monotone – with a pair of glasses on her nose, another pair up on top of her head, and a hastily hand-lettered WDNC sign fastened to a rumpled shirt by a paperclip. Sometimes she adds a neck pillow. Sometimes a shower cap.
Merchandise Saunders created by popular demand keeps selling out.
'We are putting the world on notice. We just do not care,' she says. BRAIN FOG, NIGHT SWEATS AND HAVING THE LAST LAUGH
Finally, women are having the last laugh about menopause.
Full disclosure: I. Do. Not. Care.
If you've survived perimenopause and menopause unscathed, congratulations.
Actually, I'm not remotely happy for you. I just want to glass you.
If I could remember your name. And where I'd put down that glass.
Because when your life has been turned upside down by a hormone change which reveals itself in hot flashes, flooding fits of barely-containable over-the-top rage, waking several times a night after yet another night sweat to change sweat-soaked sheets after you'd only just managed to GET to sleep because of the insomnia, it's hard to give a shit about much else. And equally hard to sugar-coat your interactions and conversations.
Then there's the brain fog. And the fact that you can exercise five times a week, eat like a bird, and still pile on the kilograms more easily than breathing.
Actually, our breathing is fine. But yours irritates the hell out of us.
Australian media commentator, presenter and menopause awareness advocate Shelly Horton was quick to sign up to the WDNC, using her social media platform to take up Melani's meno mantle locally and declare Australia 'IN'.
She now does her own updates, similarly dishevelled, always hilarious, and always paying tribute to Saunders.
Horton, soon to release her second book on the subject – I'm Your Peri Godmother – was blindsided when she hit perimenopause aged 45 and was told to take antidepressants and maybe get a hobby.
It would be another year before she would start on hormone replacement therapy (HRT) – which gave her enough relief to keep asking questions on her journey.
For many women, menopause is a nightmare tour they never signed up for.
It issues you with a ticket you don't want, and if you find a tour guide, they pretty much advise you to shut the hell up about it.
My former GP for a year tried to prescribe antidepressants for my perimenopause symptoms. She was one of many who won't suggest HRT because of now-debunked research from years ago.
Eventually I strode into her surgery a literal hot mess after a morning of hot flushes, operating on three hours sleep and a short fuse, and told her I wasn't depressed, but I bloody well would be if I ended up in jail for killing someone in a meno-rage, or got sacked because I couldn't run two thoughts together or remember the name of my boss some days.
She silently nodded, and prescribed the HRT patches.
There are different results for different people, so you have to speak to your GP about whether the patches are right for you. But for me, blessed relief came within two weeks. My partner could chew and breathe again without me wanting to smother him with a pillow. SHORT SUPPLY, SHORTER TEMPERS
Now a HRT patch shortage that looks like spinning out to two years has seen many of my symptoms resurface.
I switched medications in January, when my luck finally ran out despite monthly visits to chemists in six suburbs trying to fill the patch script. The alternatives just don't seem to work for me.
Thankfully the meno-rage hasn't returned. Just don't mention the patch shortage.
Horton's 'tour' has seen her co-write a book, and set up a business with Dr Ginni Mansberg Called Don't Sweat It which educates women and men about menopause in the workforce.
On International Women's Day in 2023, she was part of a group who addressed parliament about the issue. Fast-forward one year and a Senate inquiry, and HRT was added to the PBS.
When WDNC and Saunders hit her Instagram feed, Horton had enough HRT and lifestyle changes and knowledge on board to be ready for a laugh.
The raw, honest, unapologetic humour hooked her.
'It's my personal dose of joy every day,' she says.
'Mid-life women have for so long been told to shut up and be invisible and accept this is our lot.
'This is Gen X raising a middle finger and saying 'we are going to talk about this'.
'Let's face it peri and menopause are hormonal chaos. If you can get a laugh you feel like you've won the day.
'My mum's generation didn't talk about it and didn't question doctors.
'Now we refuse to be quiet. We have ripped of the shame label. We are flushing it out into the open, and getting a load of information that is highly accessible.' Comment: So what DO we care about?
If you're a bloke (or as one WDNC member hilariously termed men 'the penis people') who think menopause is all a beat up, and bemoans that men have midlife crises too … news flash … we do not care.
What we care about is a shortage of hormone replacement therapy patches, which you can read about on the TGA website, which means they are almost impossible to get in Australia.
It's great to have some HRT treatments on the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme at last but, for 18 months, patches, one of the forms of the HRT, have been in short supply across the world.
Patches, gels and tablets are some of the HRT treatments.
GPs stand ready to work with patients to see what, if any, treatment may be right for them, especially as they always come with some risks and possible side effects.
And, of course, some treatments work better than others for certain individuals.
I'm one of them (so you'll need to get your own professional medical advice). The slow-release hormone patches changed my life within a fortnight.
Since last year I've not been able to get them, no matter how many suburbs I drive to.
I've taken the search to country areas. Interstate. No dice.
Pharmacists shook their heads and said 'maybe March'.
March became April, April became June. June became 'now it says July'.
The latest update: 'Well they hope December'.
All because one international big pharma supplier of the patches stopped making them a couple of years ago, and countries quicker to react than us snaffled up supply.
And Australia was already towards the end of the line.
You have to wonder if blokes would put up with a Viagra shortage for that long.
'The gel combo works for me, but it doesn't for others,' says menopause campaigner Shelly Horton.
'It's great we finally have HRT treatments on the PBS. But if you can't actually fill your script … that's massive.
'As one of our advocates says: 'We don't clap for crumbs'.'
Originally published as We Do Not Care: How social media revolution is laying bare the reality of menopause