How it all started

The first time I had my period, I thought I was getting indigestion. That day I had breakfast with fried eggs, bacon, and orange juice, my second favourite breakfast after a ham and cheese toastie with Earl Gray tea.

I was 12 and a half, it was January or February, if I remember well, anyways, it was a cold winter day. A Sunday. I’ve always hated Sundays, especially as a kid, I didn’t like this day when nobody did anything the whole day and then the following day there would be school and I still had to do my homework, or maybe I had done it, but then, in the evening I always discovered there was something else to do I had forgotten about. I don’t miss those days. As an adult, I don’t have to justify myself for not doing my homework and I don’t have to find some charitable soul to copy from in the morning.

Back to the story. That day I went to my favourite bookshop with my dad. It was my favourite way to spend Sunday afternoons. But I was feeling weird, my belly hurt, my stomach hurt, I felt sick. It must be the fried eggs, I thought. And all that juice. I should learn how to chew properly when I eat. (Haven’t learned it yet). 

In the evening, when I went to the toilet I saw a tiny reddish spot on my panties. I panicked. I knew what that was, and that was no good sign. It meant becoming a woman (so people said) and I was very happy to be a little girl. I didn’t want to stop playing and inventing stories in my mind or eating sweets on the sly with my best friend that we bought with our pocket money. Becoming a woman wasn’t appealing to me, becoming an adult wasn’t appealing. Adults were no fun, they never laughed out loud. Only my grandpa was fun, with him I could climb up trees or eat what I wanted when I wanted. Like that time when he picked me up from kindergarten and took me to eat mussels in a pizzeria.

Was that tiny reddish spot the end of my best days? No panic, I told myself, maybe it’s just hemorrhoids (yeah, at that time this seemed better than period). 

The day after I went to school as if nothing had happened, I didn’t see other spots, maybe it was just that, hemorrhoids. I was still a little girl. But the following evening I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. A big intensely red spot shined on my Snoopy underwear. I started crying. I was the last of my class, all the other girls already had their period the year before and they had to wear these uncomfortable plastic things: sanitary pads. I didn’t want that. I also didn’t want to tell my mum, she would have told my granny and her friends. Women in my family never minded their own business and I didn’t want my spotted underwear to become of public domain. But it didn’t seem like I had many other options, so I called my mum. 

The sanitary pad was super uncomfortable, I felt I had to walk like a cowboy not to feel the plastic on my groin. But thankfully that first month I had no pain and only a little bleeding. So it was for the next few months. But I felt emotionally different, not worse, not better, just different, more in touch with my body. Maybe becoming a woman wasn’t that bad after all. Then, in the fourth month, it just stopped. I had nothing for three months. Was I pregnant? And how was it possible? I had never kissed anybody, not even held hands with a boy. Was it because I didn’t squat in a public toilet? Thinking about that now, I’m surprised about how ignorant and naive I was. But nobody ever explained to me properly how these things worked. So I just waited. When my period came back, it was a whole different story. The bleeding was so intense, I had to use a sanitary pad as thick as a mattress, but the worst thing was the pain. I had never experienced such intense pain. It was like someone stabbing me inside. I couldn’t sleep, move, or even stay still. My womb wouldn’t stop twitching. That’s how I became friends with painkillers. I got used to my period with time, how big the sanitary pads had to be, how many painkillers would have an effect, and what I had to wear in school. Say goodbye to white clothes. 

One day, during art class, I kept having this feeling of a warm river coming out of my body, as I moved on my chair I clearly felt it break the banks. Chak! I panicked. I was sitting on something wet. My teacher, a blond middle-aged lady with smudged lipstick, was calling us one by one to show our work to the class. What could I do? I couldn’t walk in front of everyone soaked in blood. I was never a religious person, but I started to pray, it seemed the only sensible thing I could do to avoid the public humiliation I was about to face. If there’s someone, please, make my teacher disappear or make me disappear or just do something! The bell rang. The school day was over. Thanks, God, you got this one. I waited for everybody to leave first while slowly putting all my pencils into their case. When I was the only one left, I stood up, cleaned the lake beneath me with some tissues, put on my Montgomery coat, made sure it was covering my butt, grabbed my backpack, and went back home.

Menstrual Arsenal

It took me years not to be ashamed of my period anymore or to start speaking about it with other people and also to get to know it better. Over the years I tried all the possible menstrual products in commerce. Pads, tampons, cups, underwear. Now I think I have a clear idea about my preferences.

• Pads

The classic. Almost everyone starts their menstrual life with them. On their side, they have practicality: it’s easy to find them everywhere and it’s easy to change even in the dirtiest bathroom without making a mess. What I don’t like: they’re expensive, they’re polluting and, most of all, they’re uncomfortable! I hate the feeling of the blood running down my legs and the cowboy-style walk they force me to have. Especially when I wore them in summer, I got sores all over my inner thighs. I haven’t used them in years, except for emergencies.

• Tampons

I switched to tampons when I was about 14. There was this legend that you couldn’t use tampons “if you were a virgin” (if you didn’t have penetrative sex), but that’s absolutely bullshit. Even if I didn’t know if that was true back then, I still wanted to try them as soon as I learned about their existence. And they changed my life, I have to admit. They were so small, and compact, they stopped this annoying feeling of something leaking from me. But like pads, they’re expensive and polluting. Moreover, they’ve been associated with toxic shock syndrome, so it was good to change when I found a new product.

• Menstrual cup 

The actual life changer. I was 20 when I bought my first menstrual cup and I think I’ll never leave it! It took some time to learn how to insert it, the first times I was desperate but I didn’t desist. I knew it would be a good thing, but I didn’t imagine it would change my relationship with my period so much. Why I love it: it’s comfortable, I absolutely don’t feel it at all once inserted, it’s cheap, one costs around 15 euros and lasts for years; it’s ecological, it doesn’t smell, it resists for many hours and, last but not least, it allowed me to really get to know my inner anatomy by pushing it in and pulling it out. The only disadvantage for me is when you want to change it and you’re not close to your bathroom. I’m always scared to contaminate it while I’m changing and to get an infection. But if you pay attention to basic hygienic rules, you should be fine. Except for when I’m travelling, I never change it in a bathroom different from mine and after washing my hands carefully.

• Menstrual disc

I bought it one time I knew I was going to have sex during my period and wanted to try something different. I’m not a big consumer in general, but with menstrual products, I’ve always been curious to try the latest novelty to see if I could find something even better. This disc is easy to insert and has the same pros as the cup: cheap, ecological, comfortable. What felt weird, though, was that while having it inside, I didn’t feel “sealed”. It felt almost as if it were vertical – I don’t know if I’m explaining myself. Sexwise it did its job, even if honestly I kind of like sex during period anyway. The problem came when I was having a drink at some friends’ place and I noticed that it was actually leaking. A lot. As if I didn’t have anything on. So, in the end, I don’t really know what to think about this disc. I only tried it once, worked for a while and then started leaking. Maybe I should give it a second try one day.

• Reusable pads

I first bought them when I decided to stop using disposable pads and tampons a few years ago, to combine them with the cup. They basically look like a normal pad, but feel thicker and are made of washable fabric. You have to fix them on your underwear with a little button. The pros are: cheap, ecological, softer than normal pads. The cons are: they move, they’re not really comfortable, I hate washing them because if you don’t do it straight away, the blood dries and then stays forever; if you change when you’re out, then you have to keep a dirty pad inside your bag and this is not nice. So, overall, I don’t really recommend them.

• Menstrual underwear

This is my latest new purchase, last year I decided to give them a try during a period when I was suffering from UTIs and couldn’t use the cup anymore. I think they’re a very good idea, especially combined with the cup (when I started using it again) because they’re comfortable, feel like normal underwear, and protect you from eventual leaks. But I don’t like using them alone that much. First, because I’m not used anymore to feeling the bleeding, since I’ve used internal products for over 14 years. And second, because, just like the reusable pads, washing them is a hassle. You have to soak them for hours in cold water, then wash them properly with a delicate soap and once in a while wash them with percarbonate to descale them from any blood residual. Long story short, a real bummer. Anyway, when used together with the cup, they are my best menstrual team and I don’t think I will ever change it. Never change a winning team.

Healthy habits for period 

Having a good relationship with one’s menstruation doesn’t only depend on the products you use. I noticed that taking care of my habits during the period really made a big difference. This is what I try to do to prevent pain and feel balanced.

• Food

I read that some foods can increase menstrual pain; basically every exciting substance. I didn’t do deep research, but I tried to completely give up coffee, chocolate, alcohol, chili, and too much sugar and I have to say that I really noticed a difference. Maybe it’s just a placebo, but until it works, I’ll keep doing this. On the other hand, during period I try to drink a lot of water and herbal teas and I eat iron-rich foods, such as lentils, spinach, beans, and red meat.

• Exercise

I’m not the most constant person when it comes to exercising, but I try to do something every day -it might be a long walk, a swim, a hike, or a yoga video. When I’m menstruating I still try to move a little bit, but I do something really soft -maybe I try to stretch or focus on my breathing.

• Heat

Heat is magical against pain. Before taking ibuprofen I usually try to find some relief in a hot camomille and a hot water bottle on my belly. It can increase the bleeding though.

• My magical drops

Last year my doctor recommended I try these herbal drops because I was taking way too much ibuprofen against pain. They’re called “Emmenagoga” from the Italian brand Remedia Erbe and contain camomille, yarrow, calendula, and lemon balm. I have to take them every day, 30 drops when I wake up and 30 drops before going to bed. I still have a little bit of pain the first day, but it’s sustainable, and usually, with only one painkiller I’m alright.

• Rest

The best tip to feel good during my period is to rest and limit social contact when I’m lucky to get it on my day off, otherwise, I still do what I have to do, but without stressing too much.

How I feel now

Honestly, I’ve never hated my period or wished it would stop. I feel it really connects me with my body, and I’ve always felt this way. The reason why I didn’t want to have it as a girl, is that I didn’t want to grow up yet. I occasionally have very intense pain, but with the habits I talked about before, I think it’s under control most of the time. I’m happy that nowadays there’s more space to talk about menstruation in our world because it’s just a normal body function. It’s not weird, shameful, disgusting like we’ve been educated to see it. It’s nothing more nothing less than a body process and I think it’s very important that we can comfortably live with it and also talk about it with people that don’t have it. For some reason, I’ve always kind of enjoyed talking about periods with men, as I’ve always enjoyed listening about how their body works. I just think it’s so fascinating how every single body functions differently.

Menstruation in books and movies

I wanted to finish this article dedicated to period, recommending a book about menstruation that I really enjoyed.

• Questo è il ciclo (This is the cycle), Anna Buzzoni.

This book was really eye-opening. I appreciated its deep study of period and society and found the matrix theory very inspiring. Basically, the author thinks that most of the natural processes (including menstruation) consist of 4 phases: growth, peak, degrowth, and emptiness. Like seasons: spring, summer, fall, and winter or the breathing cycle. Or the menstrual cycle. But our capitalistic society only wants constant growth and peak and is terrified by degrowth and emptiness. For the author, this is one of the causes of the increasing destruction that we’re facing, and thinks that becoming comfortable with one’s period is an essential step to being in balance with the world around us.

Some books and movies that have a beautiful scene dedicated to menstruation:

• Strega come me (Witch like me), Giusi Quarenghi

• Where the Crawdads Sing, Delia Owens (book)

• Stella, Sylvie Vertheid (film)

• The Dreamers, Bernardo Bertolucci (film)