The Menstrual Diaries

YOUR PERIOD is something that's always there.  It's always in the back of your mind.

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When I was a kid,  I'd worry about gym class and what if I got my period and everyone could see my underwear in the locker room.  Then in college I'd forget to buy tampons and stuff. It felt like everyone could tell I was on my period when I ran to the store to buy stuff after it had started.  After college it was an issue with dating and I never wanted to meet a potential Mr. Right while I was crampy and bloated.  

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When you get your period for the first time it feels like growing up.  It feels like a milestone.  But you don't know then that it's a part of EVERYTHING in your life after that. 

Every month I dread the one week when I know my period is coming. Because not only do I have to worry about when it is going to surprise me (which is always at the wrong time), but also how bad will my hormones affect me. As if heavy bleeding is not enough, I also have to deal with acne and mood swings. It is not fun! My mom always reminds me that every month when it was period time, I would say to her, "I wish I was a boy" as I always felt that life was not fair to women who have to be so concerned with every aspect of their appearance.

I started my period for the first time when I was 10 years old. I was in Tai-Kwon-Do training, and was in my white Dojo uniform… YIKES! Luckily, I was at home after training, and though my uniform was absolutely ruined, I didn’t have to experience the stigma of a menstrual blood stain in public. I’m sure that would have made the whole process 10x more traumatic! My mother was absolutely my rock, and was able to comfort me and walk me through what was happening. Mom, if you’re reading this… thank you!

I learned about menstruation when I was in Girl Scouts, middle school, and at overnight camp. Each learning experience always had the same outcome. The difference or twist was in the big "reveal" storytelling of how old you were when it happened and where. Personally, it was easier sharing "when and where" with friends as my mother was very proper and private. Of course the choices of learning a sanitary belt with a pad or use of a tampon not pleasant. Little did I know, and thinking back, learning how to insert and use a tampon was simply prep time for sexual intercourse and activities.

January 1979. I am 12 ½ years old. It’s Friday night and I’m having Shabbat dinner at my grandparent’s house because my parents went out of town for the weekend. I’m dressed up wearing a burgundy jumper, a white blouse and nude nylons. After dinner, my grandmother is going to drive me to synagogue where I’ll attend my first bat mitzvah of the year. As I’m getting ready to leave the house, I make one quick pit stop in the bathroom. I hoist up my dress, pull down my nylons and underwear and I notice something isn’t right. I have a little spot of blood on my underwear. As I begin to pee, I see more blood in the toilet bowl. Oh no! I know what this is, my mother had prepared me. But it wasn’t supposed to happen like this! She wasn’t supposed to be out of town. I definitely wasn’t supposed to be at my grandparent’s house. I didn’t have time to ask my grandmother. And I’m sure she didn’t have any pads in her house. She was old! I had to think fast. I took the toilet paper and rolled it up into a big ball. Stuck in my underwear, secured even more by the tight nylons and prayed! Forty-three years later and it feels just like yesterday.

A few years ago, I was enjoying a day out with one of my close friends, who happened to be a cis man. After a nice lunch, we decided to head back to my house. When I walked into my bedroom, I realized I had just washed and dried the linens for my bed, and when in a rush that day, had forgotten to actually put them on the bed. I apologized for the pile of sheets and blankets and told my friend he could instead sit on a chair I had in my room. As I went to move the linens, I realized my trusty white mattress, which I have had since I was a young girl, was visible, boasting glorious period stains and all. “Don’t worry, it’s just old blood that stained”, I assured him. As if in a scene from a horror movie, my friend stood frozen in the doorway. “Blood?” he asked, shockingly. I thought he was going to pass out. “You know, from having my period,” I laughed. A horror-stricken friend walked over to the chair and sat down. Trying not to laugh, I asked him if he was alright. Of course he was fine, but he looked like he had seen a ghost. 

Years later, I still think about this because of how unexpected, and yet, comical,  it was. Even after reassuring my friend that the stains were 1) not from a murder (unless we’re counting the walls of my uterus) and 2) they were dried stains from my natural cycle, he was absolutely shocked? Horrified? Something of the sort. It’s a reminder to continue to say what it is that menstruators experience - their periods!  And, never assume someone knows what menstruators experience, especially if they may not menstruate themself. We have to start being intentional and take the time to talk about periods, so everyone can understand it’s important and necessary to speak about menstruation. Today, I can say the word period and my friend doesn’t go pale. I call that progress.

I just want ice cream. All the time when I'm on my period. Just ice cream. But then I get bloated and I already feel gross with my period. Its like I just can't stop with the ice cream tho.

When I was in high school, we only had eight minutes to get from class to class. During that short time, I ran to use the restroom and found my period had started. I didn’t have any products with me and there was no dispenser or products in the bathroom. So, I took some advice from my mom and made my own pad! I took some paper towels and neatly folded till there were about four layers then wrapped the school’s 1-ply toilet paper around it, for “comfort”. It was not comfortable but got me through my class without any leaks. Luckily, I had spare tampons in my locker and properly took care of myself before my next class; otherwise, I would have had to go to the nurse’s office on the other side of the building. There was just not enough time built into my class schedule to be able to take care of my menstrual needs. From then on, I made sure to have spares in my school binder for those “surprise” moments.

I got my period at 15, which was a lot later than most of my friends. My mom continued to reassure me that it was fine, but I was becoming visibly anxious with each passing month and no period. So, to ease some of my anxiety, my mom packed a little “period kit” in my backpack for me, just in case I were to get my period for the first time when I was at school. There were maxi pads, panty liners, regular, super AND light tampons. She walked me through EVERYTHING, even pulling me into her bathroom one time to demonstrate exactly how to put a tampon in. I’m so grateful that she made sure I knew exactly what to do when the time came, and she made me feel comfortable within the process as well. Luckily for me, I got my period right at home and yelled down to my mom in relief. Yet that cute little kit that my mom placed in my backpack that day made me realize how lucky I am to have such a supportive mom who was immensely open about menstruation and all things puberty. 

The first boyfriend. The first love of my life. he didn't last very long. It was three months into our exciting love affair and I called to ask him to stop and get me some tampons before heading over. He refused, flat out refused. Three months into our exciting love affair and I booted him out of my life. On to boyfriend 2.0.

I'm not a girl.  I've never been a girl.  I always felt trapped because I knew I was a boy and nobody else knew it.

Telling people was the hardest thing I ever did.  I told my mom and she cried but then she helped me figure out who I was and what to do next.  

So now people who meet me just think of me as a boy because that's all they know and I can think of myself that way now too.

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The only time I feel like I'm hiding things now is when I'm on my period because that didn't stop.  So I'm a boy but I have to go to the CVS and buy maxi pads and I hate that part.  It's like all the things that felt bad before come back a little when I'm in the store with period stuff. I don't know if I'll ever get used to that. 

We all have our white outfit period story - mine involved a very white skirt, realizing I had leaked thru my skirt and terrified to get up from my restaurant seat as I had absolutely nothing to cover up my huge spot. I was even more afraid thinking about getting into the taxi I need to take home. And, if this all wasn't bad enough, I was at a business dinner. Instead, my story involves education - how I learned about menstruation from a film that was shown in the basement of a friend's house with a bunch of my female fifth grade classmates. No explanation was given to us before or after the film. We were just told to watch it by our moms. When my mom picked me up after the film, she didn't even ask one question about what I had just seen. Fast forward two years, and there I am teaching my sister how to use a tampon so she could go to summer camp and go swimming. I explained it to her through a closed door as neither one of us thought that we should be in the bathroom together so I could talk her through things more effectively. Had we done that, it would have made for a less painful and less mysterious experience for her. I did learn my lesson and was much more open (at least I think I was), hands on and forthcoming with my daughter.

I was a junior in college and started my period unexpectedly while I was in class. All I had on me was a pad, and when I opened the packaging up in the restroom it made this incredibly loud RIIIIIIIIIP noise. From three stalls down, I heard a little girl demand, “Mommy, why does she have a snack?” I’m still not sure who laughed louder, her mom or me. It was absolutely the tension breaker I needed at the moment.

I was in sixth grade and positive I was going to bleed to death. Bleed to death, by myself, in the dirty school bathroom. My first period was so heavy and I had no clue what was going on. Not known for having a calm nature, I remained true to myself and totally freaked out. I made my way to the nurse's office and told her I needed to go home. No explanation, just that I need to go home. She sent me back to my classroom, saying it was very close to the end of the day. When I finally got home, sweatshirt tied around my waist, I called my mom at work. She didn't answer. For the next 5 minutes, I called and I called and I called. I finally called my dad to report I was going to bleed to death. He promised me I wouldn't and before I knew it, into the house he walk, armed with every menstrual product I would need for at least the next twelve months. Shout out to dads!

“I was a High School Junior sitting in class. Suddenly, I felt the debilitating pain in my lower back that let me know I was getting an early visit from Aunt Flow. On top of the discomfort from my cramps, I had managed to bleed through a favorite pair of American Eagle jeans -- ugh! So, tying a sweatshirt around my waist to prevent anyone from noticing the growing red stain, I asked my teacher for permission to leave class and stealthily made my way to the nurse’s office. Although this was many years ago, I vividly remember the discomfort of arriving at the nurse’s office with many other students already lined up at her desk… grrrreat. By the time I can shyly speak with the nurse and request a tampon (which I didn’t have one myself that day), I also needed a new pair of pants, which I also didn’t have. So, the nurse directs me to a cardboard box labeled “LOST & FOUND.” Not only were the clothing options limited to oversized baggy gym shorts or t-shirts, typically reserved for those who broke dress code, but were also visibly not clean. NO THANKS! Feeling discouraged, I decided it was best just to walk home. Feeling guilty and worried about my attendance record, I’d later have my mom call in an excused absence for my missed classes. Looking back, I know that I wasn’t alone in my experience. This is exactly why we need organizations like Dignity Grows to normalize periods and make sure all students have access to period essentials so they don’t have to skip school!”

They say that what happens at overnight camp stays at overnight camp (like Vegas) but this is a story that all my close friends have known to be the epitome of what makes me, me. I first started my period at 13 or 14 in art class AND wearing white shorts (but that’s a different story). I went to a Jewish overnight camp for 8 years straight and one summer I said to myself “me, this summer I WILL learn how to use a tampon”. I struggled using tampons for years and so desperately wanted to put an end to pads, and be comfortable enough to swim during the summer using a product I know wouldn’t float out into the lake. 

So, I decided this summer I will finally learn to use a tampon. My mom tried helping me before I went off to camp, but still I was not successful. One day before lake time, I asked a friend who we all designated the group “mom” because she taught half of my bunkmates how to use a tampon at camp. She showed me how to do it and then I tried it on my own. I came out of the bathroom stall and cried out to the bunk “guys, I learned how to use a tampon!” They all clapped and congratulated me because this was my third summer trying. Except I didn't learn how to use a tampon. All I did was place the tampon between my butt cheeks, thinking I finally did it. Most people would be embarrassed, but I just laughed. Knowing myself, this kind of thing would happen to me and only me and that was what made it hilarious. At least we all got the kick out of it! 

I was late to the puberty game and didn’t have much of an education when it came to actually managing periods.  I had started my period the day before a big pool party with my friends.  My parents never told me about tampons, but I knew they existed and if I wanted to swim, I needed to use a tampon.  I held off as long as possible from swimming, but when everyone else was in the pool, I went inside my friends house and snooped through every bathroom to find a box of tampons.