They say inspiration strikes when you least expect it. For me, it wasn’t at a dinner party in London or while sipping cocktails at Freaki Tiki in Westward Ho! It was on the South West Coastal Path in 2023, trainers muddy, hair windswept, wondering if the seagulls had a better handle on midlife than I did. That’s when the idea for Hot Flush arrived, first as an art project about the menopause transition, and later, as a blog and newsletter about support, news, and stories in North Devon.
I’m Sharon Gale, mid-fifties, artist, accidental writer, and someone who spent most of her forties wandering around like a woman who’d misplaced not just her keys, but her entire brain. There were door handle collisions (a lot of them), bouts of clumsy-itis, words slipping away mid-sentence, names evaporating like steam from a kettle. And all the while, my hormones were doing the cha-cha, and not a single healthcare professional thought to mention it.
Sleepless nights with hot flushes that could have powered the National Grid, aching joints, and brain fog, I felt more 95 than 50. Something had to give.
Then came Davina. Watching Sex, Myths and the Menopause was a revelation. Add in a nudge from my mother-in-law, and suddenly, I was in my GP’s office having ‘the HRT conversation.’ Luckily, he listened. Around the same time, I joined an online menopause support group. And what I read there shocked me. Women being dismissed, patronised, told it was ‘just part of getting older.’ Women leaving jobs, families, relationships. And women so utterly broken that their posts weren’t just cries for help, they were lifelines dangling over an abyss.
I felt sad. I felt furious. And I kept asking myself: why is women’s health always the poor relation?
As an artist and educator, I’ve spent years collaborating with charities and community groups on well-being projects. And yet, here was a glaring silence in my own back garden. After a few conversations, the obvious became impossible to ignore: North Devon needed a menopause event. Education, connection, support, in-person, in one place.
So, in a moment equal parts panic and determination, I wrote a proposal to host a Menopause Information and Support Event at the Studio KIND gallery. Did I know what I was doing? Not a clue. Did my anxiety spike? Through the roof. But on 5th June 2025, we pulled it off. And just like that, the room was full, the conversations flowed, and the silence around menopause cracked open, at least, for one night.