Period

I got my first period when I was ten. I was at a family friend’s house. I went to the bathroom and there it was, staring back at me. Thankfully I had already been taught about ‘what to expect’ when it happened. So a short while later when we arrived home, I calmly told my mum and she showed me where she kept the pads and tampons. That was that.

It wasn’t long before boobs, cramps and hair in foreign places followed.

I know you’re probably wondering how that happened, so I’m going to tell you. (You’re welcome.)

The first sign that something was wrong was the weirdly watery discharge. I'd never had vaginal discharge that looked like that before, and considering I'd just finished my period, the large-ish amount was confusing to me. But everything else felt fine. So I put a pantyliner on and went about my life, thinking it would stop soon.

Endometriosis is typified by a high degree of uncertainty, making even a basic summary difficult. This latest incident is further proof it’s a neglected, gendered and politicised disease that needs to be taken more seriously by academics doctors and others, alike.

Image: Looncup Kickstarter

Please stop referring to me as being “alone” when I am clearly walking in a group, simply because I am not attached to a man.

Why are women so content with being a cold, distant, light-stealing stone?

Jewish law obligates men to make the woman orgasm first. Um . . . get me to the synagogue and under that chuppah ASAP.

That dreaded time of the month needn't be a sexy-time deterrant.