Period talk
It is an interesting phrase.
In its very tone, when something is advertised as a “hygiene” product, the act that they remedy becomes “dirty”. This isn’t a new phenomenon; periods, or menstruation, have been a hush story for centuries. I suppose one may call them the classical tale of cancel culture.
By the simple fact of their biology, those who have had periods are placed at a disadvantage. Whether this be by the extremes of menstruation, where some suffer with debilitating symptoms, to the emotional and physical turmoil throughout one’s cycle. Phenomena from brain fog to cramps prevent many from fulfilling their potential when it counts, such as during exams, job interviews, or sports matches. And while it is wrong to frame us as weakened when on our periods (in fact, research shows the converse), these symptoms must be accounted for, meeting those struggling with more sensitivity than has previously been warranted by a patriarchal society unwilling to listen.
What women had to wear
When I first read about what I supposed my grandmother had to wear in order to catch her period blood, I was appalled. Confirmed by my mum, it was shocking to me how late it was before disposable pads and tampons came into play. They have been around throughout my life and I never knew any different, so when I knew that it was around 1970 that women could stick on and then remove a pad, it was surprising. These were a great invention and much more convenient than the previous “period belt”, which involved a piece of cloth hooked onto the waistband of your pants, which was removable and had to then be washed.
Keeping women at the basin, I see.
Of course, these new products did not come without their healthy dose of prejudice. Nobody asked for it, but the creation of scented pads reiterates the need to conceal the blood, suggesting that people can “smell it on you”. The point was clear: no one, at any cost, can know that you are on your period — how disgusting.
Periods; our dirty little secret (All American Rejects style)
Storytime.
Having not had a period for around six years, consider the shock and relief that I felt when it miraculously returned. The timing was somewhat odd — the day of a first date — but the feeling was so intense I almost cried. I’d been worried about the ramifications of having lost my period at fourteen, particularly regarding my ability to have children.
Oh how times change.
But the feeling was very real, and I remember clearly becoming quite upset at the prospect of having taken myself to the point of reproductive injury. There was a lot of self-blame, and while I do not believe this to have been right — the fault was not mine to feel, neither was it anyone else’s — it perhaps says something about what I deemed to be my future and my worth.
My period disappeared again for a while, sitting around the two year mark, before materialising just in time for Christmas. There was less relief this time, more a numbed sense of surprise, and a general attitude by day two of grief — do I really have to deal with this again?
A few months of respite later, it returned. I’m one of the lucky ones; while the toilet looks like a chainsaw massacre, I don’t bleed heavily into the pad. My periods have also started when I’ve been at home, which I realise some people do not get the luxury of. I’ve tried to correlate these appearances with certain events, mainly lifestyle changes, particularly regarding my exercise routine and nutrition, since these were what made it disappear in the first place:
Perhaps it’s me eating more? Unsure whether I can accept that.
Nothing much has changed with exercise, although I did have a slower week away from training in the gym.
The appearance of hot men…
I don’t know what this says about my body; perhaps it senses impending pregnancy.
At least it’s a rejection.
Amongst all of this, I have been returned to the reconnicence mission that is slipping to the bathroom without suspicion. Every day this week, I have been sliding a pad up my sleeve illicitly before heading to a public toilet, wrapping the used pad up and concealing the wrapping of the new one in toilet paper.
As a quick note, can people stop telling us to use less toilet paper? You expect us to be pristine clean with one sheet?
I think this says a lot about our society. To my mind, anyone should be able to whip a tampon out of their bag in plain sight; it’s a normal part of life, so why is it treated like someone just put a condom on the coffee table?
The reason I conceal my pad is subconscious, for if someone saw me, I would feel an acute embarrassment. Most would likely think nothing of it — I wouldn’t if I saw someone else — yet I worry.
When a period is mentioned, a lot of men cringe. This is part of the issue. Now, that is a sweeping generalisation in many ways, but using it as a launching point rather than a fact, it tells us something about how conversation breeds normalisation. Many a time, and rightfully so, I’ve heard or seen media conversations around the menopause or periods (more the former than the latter) and there are usually a range of reactions. There’s the blasé reaction, where people take it like a discussion of what’s for lunch; the mock horror reaction, where people fake a sense of repulsion “for the bit”; the actual horror reaction, which requires few words; and the advocate reaction, where people use the conversation as a launching pad to harangue peers into discussing their opinions — by tone, it might be clear that I’m the last of these. It’s the horror, I feel, that is the primary issue here, whether real or faked. This, ignorantly or not, perpetuates what we have always been told our periods represent: disgust.
Even in a shop like Boots, which engages in social campaigns for women and girls, sanitary items in my local are on the top floor squirrelled in an aisle. Of course, when I first enter, glamour is truly on high. We see make-up, perfumes, the more “acceptable” portrayals of “female” presentation and healthcare. Cosmetics are placed above periods, the outer from the inner.
Tampons and a tale of vaginismus
If someone offered me a tampon when I was caught short, or in fact if I was caught short in any public toilet (not to negate the importance of having these products there), I would not be in a good spot.
The thought of a tampon is not appealing to me whatsoever. It has to be there all day(with changes of course!). No, thank you.
Due to not having a period for a while, I was freed of the need during my dancing years, where otherwise it would have become a necessity. Now, at the age of 22, I have not and continue to plan to not ever use a tampon. It was my first time buying my own sanitary pads not too long ago too; it truly is an era of firsts.
All of this is for a reason. While I cannot diagnose myself, I wonder if I have vaginismus. This condition has been getting more recognition in recent times (at least in the circles I frequent), and it describes an involuntary tightening of the vaginal tract, perhaps due to muscle spasms or anxiety. Returning to tampons (what a phrase), I do experience a general “seizing up” when I think about using them. People have reported feeling pain when trying to use them when they have vaginismus, and it’s important to recognise this as a real problem and not easily fixable by a shift in mindset.
If someone tells me to “just relax” once more, I might be liable for a death.
Loss of a period, less of a woman
When one loses their period for a prolonged time, such as myself, it’s easy to feel (and be told) that it’s your fault. I am here to strongly say that it is not, and also argue against the ways in which people with this condition are made to feel. Amenorrhea describes the loss of one’s period, and it doesn’t stop there for all, particularly when menstruation stops at a younger age. It has happened for a reason, and hormonally the body has been set off-balance, meaning that other developmental processes are also stymied. For example, I am convinced that I was destined to be 5’8”. But more seriously, it influenced the development of my “womanly shape” (god I hate that phrase, but alternatives included “curves” and “figure”, which I’m also not too enthusiastic about).
There are two sides to this. First of all, it can feel “masculating” (notice how there isn’t a word for becoming less feminine) when one loses their period. Compounded with the [lack of] body changes, the loss is therefore perceivable, converse to the hush-hush around being on one’s period. It’s a lose-lose situation; have a period and it’s wrong, or don’t have a period and it’s wrong.
Alongside my body at the time, which was “masculine” as far as that meant flat-chested and with defined muscles, but also drastically underweight, I didn’t necessarily feel less “girl” or feminine, but I also certainly fell into the “gym bro” kind of mentality. Exercise became my identity, and any improvement in that area was the ultimate win. This included loss of my period, because that’s hard effort, right? Periods were “dispensable” to living, and so their importance was underrated.
There is some form of secret code around periods, and I wish that the freedom with which those who have them discuss it with each other would translate through everyone. Periods are associated with pain and therefore weakness, correlating with what people like to affix to those who have them. There is a cultural will to remove, to get through it, to “thank God it’s over”. It is a biological process facilitating later pregnancy, linking to a societal role which many in the current age are eager to retort.
In my seldom periods, I confess that I (as right now) find them at best inconvenient. They require a little change in routine, a switch in the script, and the symptoms can be (professionally speaking) the pits. I’m also — as with many things — feeling rather relaxed about the whole thing. I just get on with it, and I’m lucky to be able to say that, as many have very bad experiences around their periods.
It’s a difficult one. There are so many varied and layered elements to and regarding periods that it’s tricky to navigate the topic, and perhaps this is what wards people off these conversations.
After menopause and the degradation of the female body
Of course, another time when people lose their periods is at the menopause. While I have no experience of this personally, I have seen the impact of it on women both personally and in the media. The increased visibility of menopause discussions has done wonders for public awareness, and while there is still work to do, this has pushed compassion for those living with it in the right direction.
There are certain values, societally, that those perceived as female bestow. After the menopause, and indeed after middle age, women are much less likely to be able to have children, resulting in an automatic (if implicit) lowering in their value. Indeed, since youth and beauty are the underpinnings of patriarchal femininity, women experience a direct decreasing in their “value” to society. People have told me how, when once others were tripping over themselves for them, they are now ignored at best, pushed aside at worst. Many mothers report being ignored when out with their young-person daughters, and our current society is not geared to caring for women older than 40.
Unless you’re a marketing agent for retinol creams.
Targeted for their culturally-induced uncertainties, women are sold products upon products to “tackle” ageing — a double sell for gifting them with “value”. It’s a catch-22 that feeds on uncertainty.
All in all, menstruation and menopause (and all other words beginning with MEN) are topics that must be brought into the daily lexicon. If people become open to discussion, eventually engaging in them, society becomes a much more empathetic place. My opinions and my thoughts about myself are shaped by how I was raised and the era I was born into, the society and culture in which I have been placed. This not only shapes how other’s view me but how I interpret my arguments; would I find it so important to talk about periods if someone else hadn’t already raised their voice?