Emergence: menopause and international law

A few weeks ago, a woman I know died unexpectedly. She was a writer, singer and poet, and crashed a party at my house in December. We sang ‘bye, bye, miss American pie’ in a gazebo at the top of our lungs with a crazy bunch of tipsy guitarists, and had one of those noisy dancing kitchen conversations over a sink full of margarita glasses. She’d been through a rough time, and was so excited about her future. 2026 was going to be her year.

Two weeks later, she had a stroke, and she died not long afterward. Her funeral is this week.

We weren’t very close friends, but I really liked her. I was totally certain I’d be seeing more of this cool woman. I think her sudden death has shaken me out of my covid/menopause haze, and made me realise that I might not necessarily have all the time in the world.

Menopause is weird, but observing myself as I go through the brain fog, anxiety and sweaty nights has been so interesting. Like auto-ethnography: I’m there with my field journal, nodding and jotting down notes on my research subject, who is myself. I learned a lot, even in the first couple of years when I didn’t know that’s what I was doing. Before I got into my cozy menopause cocoon, I was working with phenomenal colleagues on mass graves, hate crime and serious organised crime projects, teaching university seminars on anthropology, crime, human trafficking, globalisation, international policy and intervention, and research methodologies. I loved it, but suddenly, I couldn’t cope with the darkness. I couldn’t remember dates or the names of authors and treaties, I stumbled and I hesitated. I always asked my students to bring a news item that related to that week’s topic, and we would analyse these - always bad news, always hard, and my students needed support to get through their own despair at the realities of the world as well. The research, too, was dark and hard, and often frustrating, especially when policy and politics collided. I decided to back away from some of my favourite topics, and felt ashamed that I couldn’t face them any more. I stopped keeping up with the news. I didn’t realise at the time that my hormones were loopy, making me anxious and insecure.

I’m glad I took that break, but I can’t ignore the world now. I have a lifetime of experience in diverse places and cultures, I’m an excellent teacher and writer, and I know that one of my main skills is in making complex academic topics understandable for regular peeps. I’m actually really hopeful about the state of things - millions of people are asking the right questions, protesting wisely, and acting ethically. But international law still lives in an academic tower, guarded by paywalls and dragons and Latin. I’m aiming to change that.

I’m emerging into a world that’s changing fast, and there’s no time to waste. Time is precious, and short. In my next article, I’ll be introducing international law and how it impacts everyone, every day, and how important it is. Feel free to ask questions below, and I will do my best to answer them.

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My mission is to make international law understandable for everyone. All posts will be made public until further notice, since I believe that information about the international laws and policies that impact us every day should be freely available. I will be writing mostly on weekends and evenings, as I’ve got a day job and bills to pay. If you would like to become a paid subscriber on Substack, receive update emails and help and expand this mission, please do!