Rachael got her period October 17
Rachael got her period October 17
May is Period Health Awareness Month - Vol. II
Editors Note: May is Period Awareness Month! Yes, getting your period can be a drag, but it’s an important function of the female body. It’s something that we all deal with, but aren’t supposed to talk about, even though it happens on a frequent, and regular basis. Every girl and woman experiences their period differently, with it impacting their daily lives from sports to culture, religion, and social environments. The hormones related to menstruation and menopause impact women’s health in ways that are still not fully understood, and millions of girls and women do not have access to period products for the same reason: it’s rude to talk about your period. To bring awareness and de-stigmatize the period, The Earthly Kitchen is bringing you a collection of true stories every Friday for the month of May from guest writers. Be sure you’re subscribed to receive newsletters right to your inbox and share with your menstruating friends!
“October 17, October 17!” Alex and his buddies chanted every time they saw me. I distinctly remember this ridicule happening on the school bus, but Alex, the leader of this stupid little motley crew was not on my bus route. It must have been when I walked down the hall, entered a classroom, or bumped up next to him in the cafeteria line, somewhere that made me feel small and confined, like the back of the bus. “October 17!”
This day, or any of the days he chanted the aforementioned date was not actually October the 17th. “October 17” became almost like a nickname, albeit not an endearing one. Instead it referred to the date I got my period that October in 8th grade. How did Alex and his boys know? Did I circle it on my calendar or tell a friend who spilled the beans? And why was this so fascinating to those boys?
The answer to that, of course, is easy. Periods are taboo even though almost all humans with a uterus get one at some point in their lives. It’s the dirty little secret we all share but can’t talk about, the mysterious bodily function we don’t fully understand, not really. And if we bleeders don’t understand it, a bunch of 13-year old boys most certainly don’t either. It’s as if with every “October 17!” they called out they were asking, “What the hell is even happening?” Except they didn’t really want to know the answer, did they?
Even in my youth I had a stubborn feminist resolve, so I decided to own it. I brushed them off when they shouted, pretending not to hear them. I’m sure at one point I attempted to take back the power by acknowledging, Yeah, so I have my period, SO WHAT? But somehow, I never get back the power—if I’d ever had any. I couldn’t understand why there was no way out of this, that they would make fun of me no matter what I said or didn’t say, that having a period was hilarious to those boys and anyone around them. This was when I began to understand the power structure of the patriarchy, which is not based on logic, but on humiliation, degradation, and control. Whatever you say can, and will, be held against you in the court of life.
A year later, long after the thrill of calling me out for being a menstruator faded, I sent Alex an IM on AOL. I was like, “hey,” and he was like, “sup,” so I was like, “u no today’s date?” and he was like, “october 17,” and I was like, “lolllll, thanks,” and he was like “yup.”
Yup? YUP? Had he forgotten the significance of this day that was so very special to him just a year ago? Had the glimmer of humiliating me tarnished so soon? There could be no round two? I was practically asking for, no, I was asking for it when I asked for the date. But here we were again—humiliated, powerless—couldn’t even get a laugh out of the guy, and it was time to change my pad.
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