A Dreadful Disney Treasure Hunt, or “Do Princesses Have Periods?”
I got my period at Disneyland, and it was awful.
(A word: I’m not one of those people who think menstruation is shameful and should only be whispered about. Not at all, far from it. But as much as I admire the women who talk openly about their periods, I’m not quite there.
For me, it’s kind of like if you have to tell someone you have diarrhea… you know perfectly well that everyone experiences that at some point, but you don’t really want to talk about it with strangers.
I tell you this so you’ll understand my comfort level here — I’m pissed and I’m darn well going to tell you what happened, but I really wish I didn’t have to.)
So, I (unexpectedly) had my period at Disneyland, a week or so early. Hey, it happens. I always carry something, of course, a pad or a tampon tucked in my purse, but I didn’t have enough for a whole day at the park. No problem, I thought. There are stores everywhere in Disneyland, and I’ve bought things like aspirin and eyedrops in them before. All kept behind the counter, sure, but that kind of thing is available.
I went into the nearest large shop, the one next to Star Tours, where they sell everything from figurines and toys to water and sunblock. I figured any place that sold sunblock would also sell tampons and sanitary napkins.
But no. When I quietly asked the nice lady behind the counter, she told me (incorrectly, it turned out) that no shops in Disneyland sold them, that I could only get them from the machines in the restrooms.
(A word about these machines, for those who don’t frequent the ladies’ room: these aren’t the lovely vending machines you sometimes see in restrooms, that sell condoms and breath mints and, I don’t know, emergency nose-hair clippers.
They’re these ancient metal machines with one option for napkins and one option for tampons, where you put in a quarter and twist/pull a knob or push a button and, if you’re lucky, something comes out. At least 80% of the times I’ve encountered these machines, anywhere, in any public restroom, they’ve been broken or empty. Like, seriously, they almost NEVER work. And even when they do, what you get is kind of awful. I mean it’s fine, but it’s a stop-gap to use until you can get to your regular, preferred products.)
Still I hoped for the best, got some change, and went in search of a restroom.
In the first restroom, the machine was broken (or maybe empty? Either way: No luck). So I found another restroom. Same thing.
At this point I was a little worried. I hailed a passing employee (I know Disney calls them all “cast members,” but ugh) and asked her if there were any other places I could get feminine hygiene products.
She told me I could find them at the First Aid building, near Main Street.
So I went there. I asked people behind the counter and they informed me that no, they didn’t have them, but that I could buy them, at the nearby “Photo Supply Co” store.
The photo supply store was a bit crowded, and all the people behind the counter were old men… Which I know shouldn’t matter, and it doesn’t matter, and again, no shame in having a period, but after the group discussion about my menstruation needs at the First Aid counter, I would have much preferred to talk to a woman who would have understood what it meant if I just sidled up and muttered while using my eyebrows expressively.
But it was fine, I waited in line and when it was my turn I tried to ignore the couple standing way too close behind me, and told the guy I wanted to buy feminine hygiene products.
He walked over to the nearby storage closet, opened a cupboard, and brought back my options, which he banged down on the counter with less discretion than you can possibly imagine:
- an enormous, 32-pack of sanitary napkins, or
- an almost-as-enormous 40-pack of tampons, or
- a tiny 4-pack of tiny sized tampons + two “barely there” panty liners.
No way would either of the gigantic packs fit in my purse. I would have spent the rest of the day at Disneyland lugging around a plastic bag containing more pads and/or tampons than I’d need in a week.
I asked the guy if there were any other size boxes and he said no and looked mystified and deeply uncomfortable. I’m seriously not sure he knew the difference between pads and tampons. He wasn’t rude, just completely unable to assist me.
So I spent way too much on a box of the tiny tampons, even though they were just not at all what I needed.
And I was very upset. Not only because it took a lot of time and was fairly unpleasant, but because I couldn’t stop thinking about what this little adventure would be like for, say, a shy teenage girl. Or a woman raised in a tradition that taught her that talking about menstruation was shameful and humiliating. Or a single father who was alone at Disneyland with his young daughter who had just unexpectedly started menstruating. Or that daughter.
So many tween girls visit Disneyland every day; it has to happen occasionally that girls get their very first period there. It’s never going to be, like, AWESOME to get one’s first period in a public place… But it’d be nightmarish to get it and not have access to the appropriate supplies, and then find out that your choices are to carry around a huge pack of pads all day, (or I guess just take a couple and throw out the rest?) or use a tampon the first time you ever get your period.
(Okay, I suppose there must be girls out there who start out using tampons, the very first time. But it’s not common, I promise you. Tampons are like a whole thing. For most girls, it’s the first time they ever insert anything into their body like that. And the applicators are really weird until you figure them out. The first time I used a tampon, my best friend AND my sister AND my sister’s best friend were all in the bathroom with me and it took twenty minutes and I gave up twice and okay it was a bonding experience but not one I’d want to have in the stall of a public restroom at Disneyland.)
So it made me really mad. Tampons/pads are as necessary as toilet paper. Getting them should not be a treasure hunt. There is no reason for them not to be kept behind the counter of every store in the park. In selections and package sizes that make any kind of sense AT ALL.
When I got home, I wrote about the experience on Twitter, and tagged @Disneyland and @DisneylandToday. I also wrote a letter to the Disneyland guest services/help center through their website, and got an automated message saying I’d hear back within five days… But now five days have gone by, and nothing.
@Disneylandtoday responded right away though, replying to my tweet thread:
So I DM’d them, and told them the whole story I just told you, and they replied:
SIX LOCATIONS. This is their “we’re not as bad as you think” statement: Six locations sell basic hygiene supplies that thousands of their visitors are likely to need at any moment. And notice the plural: Parks. That makes me think they’re talking about not just the 85-acre Disneyland Park, but also the 72-acre California Adventure park next to it. Six locations in Disneyland and California Adventure combined. That is insane. That means that at any moment, a woman (or young teen girl) might be wandering around 150 acres looking for one of the six stores (out of dozens) that sell the products that will keep a natural and normal bodily function from ruining her clothing. Six stores that a lot of their employees don’t know anything about (surely I wasn’t unlucky enough to find the only employees in the park who don’t know about the Secret Tampon Sellers?).
And no mention in their reply of the ridiculously poor selection — imagine if the restrooms didn’t stock toilet paper, and when you finally found a store that sold some, your options were to buy two cotton balls, or a twelve-pack of double-size rolls of Charmin. If what I saw is all any of the stores sell, that needs to change.
I asked these questions in my next DM to @DisneylandParks, but they did not reply.
Of course I still might get an answer from the Disney guest services.
Maybe they’ll reply, and fix it.
(Edit: Spoke with a woman at guest services on July 2. I narrowed my suggestions to what I think are the bare minimum of reasonable. The changes I proposed were:
1. More shops should sell the products
2. A more useful selection should be available
3. A sign should go in each ladies’ room stating where the products could be purchased.
She said she understood my complaints and would pass them along, but that she had no idea if or when any changes would be made, and would not be able to follow up with me to let me know if changes had been made. When I asked if there was someone I could call in a month or two to find out where and what feminine hygiene supplies were sold in the parks, she told me I could call the Disneyland info line. It was not a very satisfying conversation, and did not leave me very hopeful.)
But why did this problem happen at all? I simply can not be the first woman who has run into this predicament. It’s bizarre and ludicrous that Disneyland is so unprepared for something that happens to millions of women every day. This is not an unexpected event (though the individual timing might be). Nor is it a shameful, embarrassing, unspeakable event. It’s a basic fact of life. People would find it very odd if Disneyland didn’t provide toilet paper or hand soap in their bathrooms. Why do they only provide tampons and pads in (usually broken or empty) machines, or at six locations that many of their employees aren’t aware of?
It’s not like Disney can claim it doesn’t know about menstruation.
DISNEY KNOWS ALL ABOUT MENSTRUATION.