I got my period when I was around 11 and I was pretty lucky as my mum had prepared me for it.
She’d handed me a bag filled with disposable pads and painkillers and mentioned there was another form of menstrual protection I could use called tampons, but we’d cover those when I was older.
From the get-go, this mysterious introduction not only made me fear them, but it also reinforced the idea that periods – and everything that comes with it – is something that should be hidden.
As I got older, I picked up bits of information and every time I had a complaint about pads or periods in general, tampons would be mentioned in passing.
I learnt that I wouldn’t have to forgo activities, such as swimming, when I was using them. And the fact that I wouldn’t be aware of the wad of cotton inside of me seemed to be the tampon’s main appeal.
When I was finally ready to try them, the only advice I received from peers was: ‘You kind of just shove it up there; you’ll know when it’s in.’
Cut to me, completely inexperienced with shoving anything up my vagina, overwhelmed in the bathroom.
Confused by what my mum had told me, as well as the instructions that came with the tampons, I wasted roughly five applicators before I even got one in.
TV ads promised me new-found empowerment and that I’d be able to go about my day at ease.
In a world where periods are seen as taboo, not having prior knowledge makes this already isolating experience even worse
Instead, I was in pain and walking differently. When I went to find my mum, she told me my uncomfortableness probably meant I didn’t have it in properly and she couldn’t help but laugh as she watched me walk awkwardly. Not in a mean way, just like she was reminiscing.
Although she assured me the tampon waddle was a rite of passage, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that I couldn’t do something so simple as inserting a tampon.
The people on television did it no problem, hell even some of my friends swore by them! In the years that followed, I would try using them again every so often and feel defeated when it didn’t work out.
Eventually, I gave up because I couldn’t deal with the shame that came with failing to use one and also how drying they were when I took them out. Everything about tampons to me was an ordeal.
Looking back, I think my life-long disdain for them could have been avoided simply if I had been better prepared.
Despite being sexually active, my vagina was a complete mystery to me. Like many, my sex education at school was reminiscent of the infamous scene from Mean Girls where Coach Carr states: ‘Don’t have sex. You will get pregnant and die.’
There was no discussion of what a period is or its purpose. Let alone things to look out for and how to obtain and use products.
Yet I feel lucky to have had some, albeit limited, knowledge before mine started. Many do not know what a period is until they experience it.
And in 2017, Plan International reported that one in 10 people aged 14-21 were unable to afford period products, with 12% having to improvise their protection.
People who are forced to use makeshift products run the risk of infection, not to mention shame, missing education and ostracisation.
In a world where periods are seen as taboo, not being informed about your own body makes this already isolating experience even worse.
After partnering with Young Scot in 2018, the Scottish Government was the first in the world to make period products free to students.
At the beginning of 2020, they reported that 84% of those who accessed the free products said the scheme had a positive impact on them.
They also found that 89% admitted they were less worried about having their period, 64% were able to continue with their day and 25% said having access to products positively impacted their mental health.
That is why it is so essential that menstruation and sanitary products are talked about openly. Surely it benefits everyone?
Yet, just a few weeks ago, we saw a lighthearted and educational advertisement banned in Ireland after 84 people complained it was demeaning and filled with sexual innuendo.
The ad expands on the advice so many of us receive (‘get it up there’) and actually demonstrates how to properly insert a tampon.
Considering the dangers associated with improper tampon usage (such as the risk of contracting TSS), it makes no sense to ban accessible and shame-free period talk.
I am now at a point in my life where I cannot insert products such as tampons with ease as polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) has caused my ovaries to double in size. It makes my stomach bloat and insertion is near impossible.
So, although I have no plans to try again, I know this advert would be and will be, a great source of education and comfort for many.
Accessibility and inclusivity are two things that are missing from conversations surrounding periods and why I dedicate so much time to speaking frankly about them.
I talk about my periods with my non-menstruating counterparts and I’m always happy to answer any questions. In fact, I encourage them.
My own experiences – both good and bad – really inspire me. The lack of open conversation was a big driving force and one of the main reasons why I wanted to write a gender-neutral guide to periods.
There is no denying the positive effects of better education and shame-free access has on people. It is a vital step that needs to happen worldwide.
Source: Read Full Article
