Being of an age where us men must support/suffer the consequences of the female menopause; I was recently told of the male version: The Kenopause. A slick term, no doubt allied to the recent Barbie blockbuster flick, I wondered if there was such a thing, and stumbled across the NHS website which states: The male menopause, aka the ‘andropause’ is developed by ‘some’ men.

Thankfully having got off relatively lightly over the years, bar being verbally ripped limb from limb a couple of times at work by females in the zone, I have read with interest the latest rumblings as to how women believe it should be assigned as a medical issue and, thus, be given paid time off work if required. Now I am aware I am batting off a very sticky wicket this week as a columnist and a male, but the menopause to me sounds rather unpleasant although, I am sure, as with pain levels during childbirth, some suffer with the symptoms exponentially worse than other sisters.

I digress: The male menopause emanates through the following symptoms, in the late 40s and early 50s, (of which I am a prime target) via mood swings and irritability (check), loss of muscle mass (ditto), developing man boobs or a large belly (hell, yeah), a general lack of enthusiasm or energy (yup), insomnia and short-term memory loss (as above).

Having consulted Dr Google, and the NHS website, I am now fully convinced that I am a ‘sufferer’ as I hit all the yardsticks as laid out. More ‘seriously’ the above symptoms can lead to further, wide reaching issues such as stress, depression, anxiety and, ahem, low sex drive.

But is the above not just ‘ageing’? and do we need to stick a label on it and mark ourselves out as victims of this cruel process? Yes, I’m grouchy much of the time, managing to tread a fine line between irritability and going off like Michael Douglas in ‘falling down’, which is self-control that surely only comes with age. I work out most days, yet the man boobs are now just a mainstay but, maybe this has something to do with relaxing with a bi-nightly jar of cold ale in which to celebrate the achievement of having reached the sunset of another day with breath coursing through my lungs.

We all lack energy as we age and memory loss is a part of advancing years, and I wonder how convenient it is to lay the blame of such personal issues at the door of age, or the Kenopause?

Just recently an elderly relative crashed their car into the front wall of their house. The immediate response was to blame ‘age’. A few weeks later, a middle aged relative left the handbrake off their jam jar causing the car to roll into a telegraph pole and writing the door off. For the latter incident, it was deemed a one-off lack of concentration. For the former, the questions were asked as to if this person should still be in receipt of a driving licence. My point is, every action and reaction must have a cause and a ‘blame’, and beyond that blame we then all feel the need to come up with a fix. Sometimes, just sometimes, things just ‘are’ and that’s how karma has dealt its hand and, well, that’s all there is to it.

As for me, I plan to just crack on and work as a one-man army through my Kenopause symptoms as I do when injured physically. Besides a few cursory ‘ahh, poor you’se’, you are born alone, die alone and fishing for sympathy as a male just never works. In fact, the usual reply is an illness comparison ‘oh yes, I had that last year’ as the female inevitably belittles your pain through the medium of a step-by-step account of her former ailments until, silenced, you go off feline like and lick your wounds alone in a darkened shed or man cave.

Yes, the Kenopause is a thing, and I am a sufferer, but no, I expect no sympathy, and neither am I getting any. I will continue to make peculiar sounds as I rise from inert and breath in, as I wish the pesky man boobs would find a more willing recipient as I wish I had appreciated my youth a little bit more than maybe I did at the time before it all went south…

  • Brett Ellis is a teacher