Author: Omisade Burney-Scott

Omisade Burney-Scott is a seventh-generation Black Southern feminist, storyteller and social justice advocate. She is also the creator and curator of The Black Girls’ Guide to Surviving Menopause (BGG2SM), a multimedia project focused on normalizing menopause and aging through the centering of the stories of Black women, women-identified and gender expansive people. She has been featured in numerous outlets including Oprah Daily, Forbes, Vogue, Prevention, The Washington Post and The New York Times. She currently resides in North Carolina.

A Letter to My Future Self in a Time of Undoing

This essay is one of three “Letters to My Future Self” included in Flipping the Menopause Script Is Essential to Democracy. Through personal reflection, political memory and spiritual inquiry, these letters consider menopause and midlife as thresholds—moments of undoing, reckoning and renewal. They invite readers to see aging not as decline, but as a site of transformation, agency and hard-won power.

“Since we were born in 1967 … we were told, implicitly and explicitly, that we were the first generation of Black children born into the fullness of freedom promised by law. The first generation of Black women was meant to be fully protected by the government. Free to vote without obstruction. Free to be educated without limits. Free to open a bank account, hold a credit card and own property. Free to marry who we loved. Free to live without our rights being constantly renegotiated.

“That was the promise we inherited. …

“Menopause sharpened my understanding that rights, like bodies, require attending to and care. That neglect is a political choice. That erosion is not accidental. That what happens to aging bodies mirrors what happens to democracies that refuse to honor those most impacted by time, labor and sacrifice. So I am writing to you, Future Me, because I want us to meet each other awake.

“Who are we when I finally arrive?

“Are we softer without being smaller? Stronger without armor? Have we learned how to rest without apology? Have we let go of the belief that our worth must be proven through exhaustion? …

“If you are an ancestor now, please remind me of what mattered most. Not the accolades. Not the fear. Not the scarcity. Remind me that I belonged to myself. That I belonged to my people. That I trusted the wisdom of my changing body.”

(This essay is part of the latest Women & Democracy installment, published in the middle of Black History Month, in partnership with Black Girls’ Guide to Surviving Menopause. Menopause is not only a physical transition—it is also cultural, social and political. Recognizing its full scope is essential to advancing true health and civic equity.)

Democracy, Divestment and the Power to Choose Liberation: On Cultivating ‘the Menopausal Multiverse’

It’s time we reimagine menopause as an expansive, intersectional journey through radical divestment and collective empowerment for all marginalized voices.

Ultimately, our goal is to ensure that nobody’s menopause experience is overlooked or left behind, and that requires us to break from the mainstream “landscape” and forge an empowering community of our own.

(This essay is part of a collection presented by Ms. and the Groundswell Fund.)

Menopause in Three Parts: Where Rivers Flow, Split and Unravel

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When Rivers Flow: “Menstrual blood came with its own set of messages, whispers from my womb space that only I could decode. It was like embarking on a treasure hunt within myself, armed with nothing but a compass made of intuition and a hefty dose of trial and error. Creating my own map of this internal landscape wasn’t easy. I had to channel my inner cartographer and chart new territories with each cycle.”

When Rivers Split: “There was something special about a bunch of Black women who had already been where I was calling me with joy in their voices. … forming a kinship with our wombs is about learning to love ourselves, to treat ourselves with the same grace, kindness and high regard that the world demands of us as Black people with wombs.”

When Rivers Unravel: “Menopause would be that queer initiation, that modern-day rite of passage I had so longed for. And it would come at a price. My transition initiated a second puberty that changed everything about my body. This rite of passage pried off the mask of societal expectations I had inherited from my foremothers. Menopause set the mask on fire.”

Not Your Mother’s Menopause

We all remember the moment we heard her story: an old woman, a witch, a shapeshifter, a ghost, who was feared by all who encountered her—likely somewhere between 40 and 101 years old.

But maybe the old woman living in the woods is not a mythical threat, but a person navigating their highly individualized journey with menopause and aging that transforms everything she knows about her body and her relationship to the world around her. Perhaps we should take another look and see her in her full personhood.