I’m not one to stop and marvel over the wonders of biology while menstruating. Some people see it as a spiritual experience or a celebration of their biological femaleness. Some people take the opportunity to create artwork or make political statements by bleeding through their yoga pants. Good for them, I say. Celebrating periods is fine if that’s your thing, but I’m just not that enthused about it. I mean, I can appreciate it in theory but in practice, it doesn’t thrill me. Generally, I have two kinds of periods. Okay periods and not-good ones. Last week, I had a not-good period.
**This is an anonymous guest post. It contains material that some will find distressing.**
If you haven’t yet heard about 13 Reasons Why, it’s a show on Netflix that has the world talking. In 13 episodes, we discover the reasons that led 17-year-old Hannah Baker to commit suicide. It talks about so many important issues that, in my experience, many adults trivialised.
At 31, watching 13 Reasons Why has been too close for comfort. It brought back all those memories and feelings I had as a teenager trying to navigate through life while horrible things kept happening to me.
There’s a Facebook post doing the rounds at the moment. It was made and shared by a woman called Kelly Brogan, MD, who bills herself as a “Holistic Psychiatrist”.
I’ve seen it shared quite a bit, primarily by pissed off women who, to paraphrase a friend of mine, cannot believe this fuckery. On the original post, dissenting comments are periodically deleted.
I was 12 when I got my first period. I was well-prepared. By that, I mean that I had sent away all the coupons in my Dolly and Girlfriend magazines to get free samples of all the pads and the kind of tampons that came in what appeared to be a cardboard launching tube; what a marvel of engineering that thing was. I had also been to the vague and mysterious talk that all the girls at school went to (no boys allowed), given by the school nurse. Periods, until the age of 10 or so, had been a complete mystery to me.