I bled through my pants yesterday. It wasn't the first time and probably won't be the last; nevertheless I was embarrassed. I started menstruating at 11. It's been 15 years of heavy flows, cramps, pads, and occasional leaks. How does something so natural, so common, and so feminine make me feel so self-conscious? It's no secret that women have periods. We menstruate. It's not the most enjoyable or glorious part of womanhood, but it's a necessary inconvenience.
It's not nasty; it's protective. It's not disgusting; it's regulatory. It should not be embarrassing! It's not a taboo subject, and it doesn't have to be a secretive occurrence. Yet and still I deliberated about sharing this, and I almost did not. I felt a tinge of impropriety by openly discussing my period. I'm over it. There will be no more resentment of the fact that I have a period or stress about its presence. If my Always should fail me, you may know I'm on my period. That’s no cause for me to feel shame.
The female body is incredible. Among other things, it's capable of producing food and housing humans. Women are among "a handful of species" on Earth that menstruate, and, in cyclical fashion, our bodies do some awesome biological stuff. My period won't be the elephant in my pants any longer. From now until menopause, I'm embracing my menses. I'm celebrating the fact that my body is a wonder even during the 3 to 7 days each month when it's so disappointed that all of its preparation for pregnancy was wasted on me.