I haven't kept up with (and don't care anything about) its winners or losers, but one media post caught my attention. A top British player was knocked out early on, and her statement about "girl things" sparked a load of internet chatter about monthly cycles and their impact on pro athletes.
The Guardian posted a rant-y and wonderful article about these issues with concerning female athletes and women at large, and I really appreciated it. It led me to several other awesome pages, and it really fed into my menstruation zeal.
As of late, I've done quite a bit of thinking on and talking about those inevitable monthly (or quarterly) crimson delights (or terrors). Towards the end of 2014, I decided to make the switch to reusable menstrual products, a choice that has elicited a range of response from those I know and love. It's a change I have enjoyed and heartily encourage, despite the occasional challenges. I've had to attend to my body and its systems, and I've become more comfortable embracing the nature of my creation. Plus there's the incomparable joy of saving many items from a landfill.
It's not always been a topic of enjoyment. I remember learning all about the reproductive system in a 5th grade girl scout seminar. A nurse came in, presented a slide show on the impending changes (doom) within us all, and gave us git bags filled with pads, tampons, chocolate, and info booklets. I was incredibly curious, and read the little books cover to cover almost immediately. And then again. After that, I felt well prepared to come into true womanhood. I remember spending a whole weekend just lying on my bedroom floor, awaiting my period. At some point it became clear that my desire wouldn't beckon my uterus lining forth.
Later in adolescence, periods were not so exciting — a burden at best, a misery at worst. My high school friends and I came up with a code for pads and tampons so we needn't utter the words amidst the listening ears of other students.
"I need some money."
"Dollars or coins?"
"Coins."
*tampon discreetly transfered*
It wasn't a great code, as we would frequently borrow actual money from one another and have to get clarification every time. But it worked. So went our casual embodiment of the unnecessary shame of our female forms.
Even before my menstrualightenment, I saw the small positives. That whole continuing the species is kind of cool. Additionally, periods can be a unifying way to serve your fellow woman. All have known the horror of being ill-prepared, and all have lent whatever they have to a sister in need. I've taken a tampon from a complete stranger at least a couple of times; I don't think it's too weird. We have an unspoken code, and every gal has every other's back. (Or vagina, more accurately.)
Sadly, more frequently than support through communal pads, we have ubiquitously shared a sense of embarrassment. The not-always-so-smooth slip to the bathroom, bag in tow or pocket bulging with supplies. The sitting out at the water park or absence from pool parties at young ages. The particular and unfortunate smell of a bathroom stall. I remember as a middle schooler thinking how OBVIOUS it was that I was on the rag since I otherwise rarely went to the bathroom, and I very inconsistently carried a purse.
We ladies speak of our necessary and beautiful bodily functions in hushed voices, sharing a bar of chocolate and complaining of our individual side effects.
We ladies speak of our necessary and beautiful bodily functions in hushed voices, sharing a bar of chocolate and complaining of our individual side effects.
Why is the topic of menstruation so difficult for our society? Some may argue it's the blood, but we seem to be pretty fine with common band aid situations, save a few phobics, and last time I checked, menstruating women don't exactly splatter about their deep red goodness with each step they take during those 4–7 days of every month.
To speak of our menstrual lives should not require immense courage, nor should it bring about faces and sighs of disgust. A mention of side effects shouldn't make the athletic world blow up with alarm.
I am anti-period-negativity. We ought to embrace it. Perhaps not all can adore it; some go through a lot of mental and bodily struggles. But at very least we must work to destroy the shame and enable other ladies to love and serve their bodies well. How lovely it would be for the topic of menses to be as normal and straightforward as it is for us to experience it.
This is just an introduction to what will likely be several blogs riding the crimson tide. My thoughts are numerous and scattered right now; I apologize for the lack of good flow. But you're welcome for all the period euphemisms.
The dot deserves attention. I'm happy to give it.
