I might have lasered off my moustache years ago, but there’s one Groucho Marx* trait I still cling to: a deep resistance to join any club that will have me.
Until the We Do Not Care Club (WDNC Club) slipped into my algorithm.
WDNC is an online club for women navigating perimenopause, menopause and beyond founded by the US-based influencer Melani Sanders.
Each session opens with Sanders (the queen of deadpan delivery) sporting a handwritten club note pinned to her chest, several pairs of prescription glasses and a highlighter, inviting followers to share what they – you guessed it – no longer give two figs about.
Yes, we’re talking about the usual annoyances: untouching the grey, going out without a bra or ignoring the laundry, but thanks to an eclectic and untapped talent pool, you’ll also find gems like “We do not care if our face is using our outside voice. What our face says is out of our control”, and a personal favourite: “We do not care if our clothes are tight. They fit when we bought them.”
Turns out, we women of a certain age care a lot about confessing what we don’t care about at all.
Since starting the club in May, Sanders’ social media has exploded – she has 1.7 million followers on Instagram and about 1 million each on TikTok and Facebook at the time of writing.
What began as an exasperated sigh casually filmed on an iPhone has become a rallying cry for women aged over 50 (and an upcoming book) – sparking sister WDNC clubs across the globe, (among them one from Shelly Horton, who is enthusiastically taking up the WDNC Australian baton).
Not everyone is a convert. In a Kansas City Star article, Yvette Walker provides a salient counter argument, writing that “it’s too important a time not to care”.
“I need to care about so many things, some more important than others: My doctor has told me to cut fat out of my diet and exercise more,” she writes. “My news apps remind me I need to keep up on what’s happening in my nation’s capital as well as in my neighborhood. With prices so high, I just can’t shop randomly any longer. White supremacists just marched through Kansas City during Memorial Day Weekend. I have to care.”
I’m there with Walker, sitting, fidgeting in that unease. Right now it feels as though our grip on what’s fair, moral and right is so strained, so white-knuckled, that if we let go, we might never find our way back to it.
I’m finding it hard not to care about being out of work (even though it was my choice), the scars from a fire injury, the things I forget mid-action. About the processed food my kids eat, the lunch I still haven’t organised, the cat who has definitely packed on more than winter weight … and, honestly, how much do you water indoor plants, anyway?
Almost every second woman I speak to seems caught at an existential crossroads – exhausted from caring too much, too often, about things far beyond their control. And it’s not just anecdotal. Research from the national women’s mental health organisation The Liptember Foundation shows that almost 40% of Australian women going through menopause or perimenopause are experiencing depression or anxiety.
Little wonder it’s left us full of angst yet empty inside – always chasing validation we never quite catch. That’s why the WDNC Club is so appealing. It doesn’t just lift the weight of needing to prove ourselves; it lifts the lid on why we feel we have to. And then, right when we need it most, it says exactly what we’ve been needing to hear: Take a breath, sister. You’ve earned it. You are enough.
It’s also a reminder that there’s not just light – but life – at the end of the menopausal tunnel. As Horton told ABC Radio National last month, this is our time of “menopausal zest”: a phase when we stop waiting to be valued by others and start valuing ourselves.
Yes, this is our way back; back to what really matters. It’s our opportunity to funnel all that care that’s been chipping away at us, slowly, like a thousand tiny cuts, and redirect it towards something more intentional. Towards making the most of our brief, miraculous time on this Earth.
As my mentor and occasional philosopher Groucho Marx also once said: “Life is a whim of several billion cells to be you for a while.” So let’s not waste another second – or cell – on meaningless worry or performative care.
Remember, we have zest. Now’s our time to polish those billion cells into the crazy diamonds we’re meant to be.
* Groucho Marx performed with a fake moustache during most of his comedy career
• Jen Vuk is a writer based in Melbourne
