On the first day of my most recent menstrual period, it was the first thing I noticed when I woke up (I only get my period at night for some reason). My reaction was a celebratory fist in the air and a whisper, "yes!" I knew I was on the brink of menstruating for a few days already, and it was only a matter of time.
No, I am not crazy. I am not fearing getting pregnant either. There is no other reason for loving my period besides that it is a part of me, a part that needs to be appreciated and felt fully. I am a girl, I love being a girl, and I am not ashamed of being a girl.
However, this particular period was quite intense. That is not to say that it was bad--I learned a lot from it--it was just intense. Besides, who is to say pain is fundamentally bad? Christiane Northrup, inspirational women's health and wellness author and one of my personal heroes, says "all pain is a sign of imbalance somewhere in your life." I had the following symptoms in just this first day.
Joint/bone pain
Stiff back
Headache
Fatigue
Tummy ache
I tried to alleviate these by doing various yoga poses on the floor of my bedroom, hoping to open my body up and let my energy flow freely, which may just have exacerbated the symptoms. I was also wearing tights and a leotard, which made me much more conscious of my body, especially my hips. My bones and joints started to feel like they were creaking and brittle, and my limbs were frail. It was a weird sensation: I was very aware of my skeleton. In the afternoon I was extremely lethargic, so tired that I had to lie down on the couch and rest for a while.
At one point, my sister came into the kitchen and got some pills out of the cupboard which she then swallowed with some water. I asked what they where and she said "painkillers." I asked "why?" but she didn't reply. I was this close to saying, "I'm on my period too, but you don't see me trying to drug myself." I fully live and feel my period. That seems so obvious and plain to me, but when I try to explain it to others, I get kind of confused myself.
I recently read about this thing called "moon time:" a time to go inward, separate from the chaos of busy life, and connect with oneself while one is on her period, and I think that is beautiful. That is one of the reasons I recently started keeping a Womanhood Journal. Rejuvenation cures a woman of her symptoms. This is what I tried to do on this day, but as the day went on the pain just got worse. I noticed something: in the dog days of summer for a seventeen-year-old, I only have dance class, band rehearsals, parades, cheerleading practices, and various other appointments--my life is already relatively free of stress. I write in like four different journals; I read books like The China Study by Joseph Campbell, A Place of My Own by Micheal Pollan, and Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom by Christiane Northrup. In a way I'm always doing moon time: I am constantly relaxed.
I've been into Traditional Chinese Philosophy/Medicine lately, especially the concept of Yin and Yang. Yin is the "growing in" force of the universe and yang is the "growing out" force and both act in harmony with each other. The body gravitates toward disease when its life is out of balance, and likewise towards health when it is in harmony.
Notice that rest and solitude are yin. I spend most of my life in these two boundaries. I have extraneous yin and a deficiency of yang. I guess I knew what I needed this whole time: my intuition tells me that what I really need is productivity and sociability.
For example, when I was in eighth grade I was experiencing these abdominal cramps during Mrs. Beckett's boring science class. I hated that teacher, and science. After that class was lunch and once I started talking to my friends and I got my lunch, my cramps went away. In science class I was sitting still in my desk (still: yin), and not doing anything but half-listening/half-spacing out (passive: yin, rest: yin). I traded that for having a goal of going to the lunchroom and getting out my lunch (active: yang, work: yang) and being surrounded by peers (intimacy: yang). I was involved in my surroundings so that ironically my inner body could be at peace.
So on this day of my recent period, I expected to get better when I went to ballet class, and sure enough, being occupied, active, and social healed me. Afterwards Sequim City Band rehearsal sealed the deal: concentrating, being part of a larger ensemble, and talking to the cute trombone-playing brothers (blush) settled my body back into harmony. So I didn't need more reflection and rejuvenation after all: I just needed balance.
At one point, my sister came into the kitchen and got some pills out of the cupboard which she then swallowed with some water. I asked what they where and she said "painkillers." I asked "why?" but she didn't reply. I was this close to saying, "I'm on my period too, but you don't see me trying to drug myself." I fully live and feel my period. That seems so obvious and plain to me, but when I try to explain it to others, I get kind of confused myself.
I recently read about this thing called "moon time:" a time to go inward, separate from the chaos of busy life, and connect with oneself while one is on her period, and I think that is beautiful. That is one of the reasons I recently started keeping a Womanhood Journal. Rejuvenation cures a woman of her symptoms. This is what I tried to do on this day, but as the day went on the pain just got worse. I noticed something: in the dog days of summer for a seventeen-year-old, I only have dance class, band rehearsals, parades, cheerleading practices, and various other appointments--my life is already relatively free of stress. I write in like four different journals; I read books like The China Study by Joseph Campbell, A Place of My Own by Micheal Pollan, and Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom by Christiane Northrup. In a way I'm always doing moon time: I am constantly relaxed.
I've been into Traditional Chinese Philosophy/Medicine lately, especially the concept of Yin and Yang. Yin is the "growing in" force of the universe and yang is the "growing out" force and both act in harmony with each other. The body gravitates toward disease when its life is out of balance, and likewise towards health when it is in harmony.
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Yin
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Yang
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Female
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Male
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Rest
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Work
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Night
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Day
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Passive
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Active
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Moon
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Sun
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Negative
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Positive
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Earth
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Sky
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Intuition
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Reason
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Dark
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Light
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Cold
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Hot
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Wet
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Dry
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Autumn/Winter
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Spring/Summer
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Solitude
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Intimacy
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Still
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Movement
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Notice that rest and solitude are yin. I spend most of my life in these two boundaries. I have extraneous yin and a deficiency of yang. I guess I knew what I needed this whole time: my intuition tells me that what I really need is productivity and sociability.
For example, when I was in eighth grade I was experiencing these abdominal cramps during Mrs. Beckett's boring science class. I hated that teacher, and science. After that class was lunch and once I started talking to my friends and I got my lunch, my cramps went away. In science class I was sitting still in my desk (still: yin), and not doing anything but half-listening/half-spacing out (passive: yin, rest: yin). I traded that for having a goal of going to the lunchroom and getting out my lunch (active: yang, work: yang) and being surrounded by peers (intimacy: yang). I was involved in my surroundings so that ironically my inner body could be at peace.
So on this day of my recent period, I expected to get better when I went to ballet class, and sure enough, being occupied, active, and social healed me. Afterwards Sequim City Band rehearsal sealed the deal: concentrating, being part of a larger ensemble, and talking to the cute trombone-playing brothers (blush) settled my body back into harmony. So I didn't need more reflection and rejuvenation after all: I just needed balance.