Periods have never been anything more than a nuisance, framed as the inevitable punishment of womanhood. I got my first bleed at 13 and I’m bound to its cycles for at least another 25–30 years, and like anyone else who menstruates, I’ve spent a good chunk of my time in pain, trying to find ways to ease it or avoid it altogether.

In many ways, I’ve been lucky. My periods last about four days, the flow is never extreme, and the cramps can usually be managed with the right mix of painkillers and rest. Compared to what others endure, I know I’ve had it relatively easy.

Where things were harder was in the lead-up. The week before my period brought extreme mood dips, bouts of depression, and a mental fog that left me struggling to think clearly. Every two weeks or so, I’d spiral into low moods that made me isolate, strained my relationships, and disrupted my work.

"Periods have never been anything more than a nuisance, framed as the inevitable punishment of womanhood."

Like many people who menstruate, I was prescribed the pill – Zoely, in my case – to help manage these symptoms. A single tablet each day promised to stabilise my moods and, as a bonus, free me from the cycle of cramps and bleeding altogether. For a while, it felt like an answer. It made me feel free from the burden of womanhood, where my pain, blood, and sexuality no longer caged me in stereotypes. I felt above my personal needs and, with that, free from my body itself.

I stayed on Zoely for a couple of months. It was all good and well – until it wasn’t. Over time, I became disillusioned with myself. I didn’t feel like me anymore. Not having that cycle – the routine, the accounted-for mood swings and pain that determined when I rested and when I best concentrated – left everything blown out of proportion. The absence felt like another kind of punishment, one that stripped me of my intuition and my sense of harmony with myself.

I tried to remind myself of the depressive episodes every two weeks, the irritability, the nonstop, harmful thought patterns. Surely that was all worse than simply feeling disconnected. But the more I tried to convince myself, the harder it became to believe. Eventually, I stopped taking the pill. I didn’t consult my GP, my gynaecologist, or anyone else. I think I didn’t really want to hear anything other than what my body was trying to tell me – that it felt disconnected from me.

"The absence felt like another kind of punishment, one that stripped me of my intuition and my sense of harmony with myself."

This isn’t medical advice, but sometimes you try something only to realise you had it better before, or simply to give yourself a break so things can rewire and reset. Cheesy as it might sound, the experience made me realise how much I need to work with myself rather than against myself when I’m menstruating. My body is doing what it naturally does, and with that, the mood swings, pain, and cravings are all signals – indicators of what I need, what needs to change, and where I should focus.

Period-tracking apps have helped me lean into this instead of resisting it. Paying attention to how I feel week after week, and comparing those patterns month by month, has given me greater insight and better tools to manage my cycle. I know now that I’m often more productive right after my period – my focus sharpens, my concentration peaks. During my period, my workflow shifts: I need more rest, more flexibility. Learning to anticipate and accept that rhythm has been grounding.

I’ve started to see my period like I would any other bodily function – designed to do what it needs to in order to keep me alive. It’s also a sign of good reproductive and overall health, reflecting balanced hormones like estrogen and progesterone, which support bone density, cardiovascular health, mental well-being, and even athletic performance.

And strangely, I’ve come to find a soft spot for my menstruation – a solidarity of sorts with everyone else who understands the pain (literally). It brings people together, whether that’s asking a stranger for a tampon when you get a surprise bleed, or heating up a hot water bottle for a friend when you know they just need it. Universally, periods are what bond so many women and menstruating people everywhere.

"I’ve come to find a soft spot for my menstruation – a solidarity of sorts with everyone else who understands the pain (literally)."

Obviously, what worked for me might not be the path for you – nor will it necessarily work for the next person. But this is one way I’ve navigated my period. Since coming off the pill, I haven’t thought about going back on, and that choice feels right for me, my body, and my lifestyle.

As I’ve said, this is not medical advice – just a personal reflection. Maybe it can be a small nudge for you to consider framing things differently, exploring other options, or simply reminding yourself that you’re not alone and not trapped in your experiences, and that sometimes there are ways to better understand or navigate what you’re going through.

Feature image: film still from 20th Century Women.