When “Taboo” Really Means Silence and Why It’s Time to Reclaim Our Voices

Lately, I’ve found myself questioning a lot.

Navigating perimenopause with very little preparation, relying on Google at 3am to work out what’s happening to my body has a way of doing that. Hormonal shifts don’t just affect the body sometimes they sharpen your thinking. They make you look closely at the systems, silences, and stories we’ve inherited… and whether they still serve us.

One word keeps coming up for me "taboo".

To me, taboo isn’t danger or inappropriateness.It’s generational awkwardness.
It’s inherited silence. It’s the things no one talked about, so we learned not to either.

But not in our house.

Nothing is off-limits here, and I’m deeply proud of that. My son openly asks questions about periods and my body. He’s seen his dad care for me with hot water bottles and blankets. He’s growing up understanding bodies, change, and empathy, not as something embarrassing or frightening, but as part of being human. That knowledge will stay with him as he matures and supports others.

Because the truth is this: raising children in silence doesn’t protect them.
It doesn’t prepare them for the changes they’ll go through, or the changes the people they love will experience.

At the same time, I’ve realised something else that genuinely makes me sad. That I have no real understanding of what men go through either.

Beyond puberty, we rarely talk openly about male hormonal changes, emotional shifts, ageing, or how stress and responsibility land over time. That silence means I don’t feel as equipped as I want to be to support the two people who mean the most to me in the world - my husband and my son.

I want to guide them.I want to understand their bodies and experiences the way I’ve learned to understand my own.

But just like so many people, I often find myself relying on Google, because these topics are still treated as “off-limits.”

And that’s the heart of the problem.

If these areas weren’t considered off-topic, we wouldn’t be navigating them alone. We’d be able to support each other better, with more empathy, more context, and far less fear. We wouldn’t mistake normal life stages for personal failures. We wouldn’t feel shame for bodies doing exactly what bodies are meant to do.

I’m not talking about extreme oversharing (and yes, I know I can be guilty of that).
I’m talking about openness.Honesty. Calm, fact-based conversations about life stages and bodily changes that affect all of us in some way.

Imagine if we openly spoke about our mental health, our physical health, and our journeys, and how much better prepared the next generation would be because of it. Sons who understand women. Daughters who understand themselves. Partners who know how to support each other through change.

Because the word taboo, when applied to our bodies, does real harm.It keeps people uninformed.It keeps families disconnected. It leaves future generations walking into normal life experiences completely unprepared.

Silence isn’t protection.
Knowledge is.

Sometimes I wonder whether what we now call “taboo” is simply inherited fear, echoes of a time when speaking openly about bodies, healing, and change wasn’t safe. When knowledge lived in whispers, and permission to speak was taken away. The Witch trails didn't just take away people, it took away our voices, our knowledge, our autonomy and our shared power. That fear may no longer fit the world we live in, but the silence remains.

And maybe it’s time we gently let it go.

At VE Cosmetics, we’ve always believed that autonomy, honesty, and compassion are powerful. That knowledge isn’t something to be ashamed of, it’s something to be shared. Reclaiming our voices doesn’t mean shouting. Sometimes it simply means refusing to stay silent.

If we want future generations to suffer less, fear less, and feel more supported, then we need to start calling shared human experiences what they truly are: part of life.

If any part of this resonates with you, you’re not alone.
If you’ve ever felt unprepared, confused, or quietly searching for answers.. you’re welcome here. If you feel comfortable, I’d love to hear your thoughts or experiences in the comments. Not advice. Not fixing. Just shared understanding.
Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is let others know they’re not navigating this alone.