The Unspoken Cycle
Slowly breaking the silence of menstrual stigma
“My daughter has period pain, what to do about it?” My mother asked the only female gynecologist in town.
“It’s normal.” was her answer.
That menstrual pain is normal was a common belief many still have, including medical doctors and gynecologists.
When I had my first period, I was in school. I remember that I got frightened after seeing blood coming out of me. I told my mother about the occurrence and she decided it was news worthy of celebration. We got chocolate.
This celebration starkly differed from the experiences of some of my peers who kept their menstruation a secret, likely due to its implications in our conservative society, where menstruation is an unwelcome push towards adulthood and, in some cases, a signifier of marriageable age.
During our high school years, my friends and I would often joke about sending our brothers to purchase sanitary pads, playfully claiming it would be a challenge to their masculinity.
Over two decades later, this sense of embarrassment persists. (The menstrual stigma still persists. Think about the absurdity of the blue liquid in sanitary commercials.) Many men, even in the most progressive countries, still feel a sense of shame when buying tampons or pads for their relatives.
Initially, my periods were pain-free. Pain appeared at a later point. I still don’t know what triggered it, as the underlying causes of menstrual pain are not fully understood. Recent research points to hormonal imbalances as a significant factor, but these imbalances can stem from various causes. It’s well-documented that periods of high cortisol — essentially, times of stress — can exacerbate period pain.
Things like stress management, exercise, diet, and even certain supplements can all help to restore hormonal equilibrium and ease period pain. It’s all about finding what works for each unique body and lifestyle.
In my case, the time around the second or the third year of high school marked the beginning of pain. During my university years, the pain was so strong that I frequently had episodes of throwing up. I was debilitated. Perhaps having to adapt to a new environment and language stressed my body further.
I didn’t seek help then. I assumed it was normal just like the gynecologist told us.
Often menstrual pain gets dismissed as something minor or something that people should just “deal with.” But the truth is, the pain is not minor and it can have a serious impact on people’s lives — physically, mentally, and emotionally — and indirectly impact the people around them.
Skipping classes in high school was almost always a win. Missing university lectures, although non-mandatory, was an academic loss that would sometimes create a snowball effect of stress and anxiety that only compounded the issue.
For a long time, my period was irregular and unpredictable. When it hit, I needed to be at home, bent from pain while praying for the pain to go away. “This can’t be normal.” I’d repeat these words to myself almost as a chant. How could it be normal if my mother, friends, and roommates never exhibited such painful symptoms?
In my early 30s, during health check-ups, when I would bring the pain up to professionals, I was again dismissed. So, I continued to live with it.
Recently, science has moved forward. We have more women researching these topics and providing information through books, podcasts, and blog posts. Thanks to them, I learned how to manage my own health and cycle better.
Currently, my menstrual cycle has become predominantly regular. Occasionally, I experience discomfort, which I can typically manage through gentle exercise and adequate rest, resorting to pain medication when necessary.
In the past few years, I have been strategically scheduling my work and activities away from my menstruating days. I even adapted my exercise routine accordingly. The approach takes some conscious decisions, but I am fortunate to have a job that accommodates these needs, a luxury not all have.
I understand my privilege and try to use it also to help others when I can, but change only happens incrementally. By extending my understanding to the students who navigate academic pressures while managing menstrual pain, I take one step toward that change. By sharing my experiences publicly, I take another. And maybe one day, I, too, will find the courage to tell my (male) colleagues that sometimes the reason that I’m skipping that meeting is not just because I’m sick, but because of menstrual pain which is far more debilitating.
The introduction of menstrual leave in Spain and the progressive steps taken by my employer (providing sanitary pads and tampons in restrooms) are heartening signs of a broader shift toward awareness and empathy.
In sharing my stories, I hope to contribute to a society where no one has to endure pain in silence, and where menstrual health is recognized as an integral part of overall well-being.
To those who may not understand or acknowledge menstrual pain, I want to clarify: it is real, and like any other pain, it is not normal and should not be dismissed as such.
Thank you for taking the time to read about my thoughts. If you enjoyed the article feel free to reach out at arieda.muco@gmail.com or on Twitter, Linkedin, or Instagram. Feel free to also share my story with others.
P.S. If you experience severe menstrual pain, perhaps it may be time to ask your gynecologist about endometriosis.
