Period: It's About Bloody Time

Period: It's About Bloody Time.  

By Emma Barnett.

Period.  Time of the Month.  A visit from Auntie Flo.  And - my personal favourite - "The English Have Landed".  

It's still ever so slightly disconcerting to speak the word "period" out loud, isn’t it? Even for those of us who’ve been experiencing periods for 30 years.  You'd have thought the unease might have worn off by now, but apparently it lingers on.  And that’s rather the point Emma Barnett is trying to make in her book, "Period": that millennia of shame around this subject have brought us to a point where women’s lives and health can sometimes be seriously compromised by the culture of silence surrounding menstruation.

We all know this isn’t a new thing.  A number of major religions, as well as more localised customs, have long suggested that women who are bleeding are somehow dirty.  Impure.  Unclean.  That they should be avoided – or that they should hide themselves away in order to avoid everyone else.  That they should not visit places of worship, or touch their husbands.  In the 21st century, you'd have thought that such ideas might have fallen away.   Periods are, after all, a perfectly natural process, and one which is necessary for the continued survival of the human race.   It's not as though women are menstruating selfishly, for fun, when everyone else has asked them not to.  It turns out, though, that old habits - by which we mean those which've been followed for thousands of years - die pretty hard.  We obviously know, logically, that there's nothing ethically or morally wrong with menstruation and yet still we shuffle awkwardly around it, muttering euphemisms, in hushed tones. Emma is on a crusade to change this - and "Period" is the clarion call, leading us on a rip-roaring tour of all things period related.

Emma notes that for centuries, women have been limited in what they can do for 25% of their lives.  Sometimes by physical discomfort, of course, but often because of arbitrary social rules around periods, and the stigma that still surrounds them.  Women have been so strongly conditioned not to speak about periods that they don’t always seek medical help even when those periods carry huge amounts of pain - suffering in silence through serious gynaecological issues like endometriosis.  Even when women do speak out, an alarming proportion are simply fobbed off with painkillers. Period raises the question: if men had periods - and painful ones - would the medical world be more ready to investigate, fund research into, and treat difficult period-related conditions?

Moving on from the purely medical, the book delves into the history of period products - or lack thereof. It might not surprise you to know that rags - or even free bleeding - were the most common tactic of menstruating women until about a century ago.  The commercialisation of sanitary protection since then hasn't been without its issues, you understand.  Emma raises a somewhat sarcastic eyebrow at the TV adverts depicting exuberant women in white trousers, skipping cheerily through sunlit fields, ensuring at all costs that nobody ever knows about their period. Not a paracetamol or a hot water bottle in sight, of course.  God forbid we should give any external indication of what's actually taking place. It's not surprising that it's still difficult for women to discuss their experiences of menstruation openly when even the companies making money from selling period products seem determined to keep periods so hushed up.  But for all that,  modern period products are of course significantly better than the previous options.   And this is why some of the book's stories about women who don't have access to them are so heartbreaking and frustrating.  Emma points out the huge range of opportunities lost to women experiencing period poverty - from the shocking proportion of girls who miss whole days of school in the UK, to those potentially dropping out of school completely in other parts of the world, due to a lack of period products.  From the hardships faced by female asylum seekers who have their periods, to the way in which period products have sometimes been used by sexual predators to control and abuse homeless women living on the streets.  From the health risks of using individual products for too long, because no other options are available, to the fact that some women have even been driven to shoplift period products, giving them a criminal record which will severely impact their lives and potentially their financial stability for years to come.  

Period dives headlong into the question of why both women and men find it so horrifying to discuss periods in the workplace, and debates the pros and cons of menstrual leave and menstrual policies.  It's very open about the tangled web of interlocking considerations here - would a leave policy which gave women time off specifically for period pain normalise the experiences of half of the UK's workforce, or would it risk a return to the bad old days, when employing women was seen as potentially too much trouble?  Whichever side of the argument you fall, the one thing that the book does emphasize is the vital importance of tackling the culture of silence around periods - in the workplace and elsewhere.  Whether you're an elite female athlete, whose physical performance may be impacted by your period, or a marketing professional who would simply appreciate the opportunity to work with a hot water bottle on your lap, we should all be able to speak openly to our line managers about this most normal and human of experiences without embarrassment.  And in order to achieve this, women need to stand up and actively shake off their cloaks of shame.  Waiting for men, who sadly may not have received much education around periods, to feel less uneasy about our decision means that we could be waiting for decades. 

The book acknowledges that for some, the arrival of a period has a positive psychological effect.  An (accurate or otherwise) indication that all is well.  It even explains that for decades, women have been actively encouraged to experience a period whilst on the contraceptive pill.  Not for any medical reason, you understand, but allegedly because it was thought that the continued presence of a period might make the concept of the pill seem more "natural" and more acceptable to - somewhat surprisingly - the Pope.  But it also touches upon the difficult subject of unwanted periods.  On the pain of an incoming period during fertility struggles, or in cases of gender dysphoria.  It explores the wide spectrum of emotional responses to menopause. It tackles the thorny issue of the relationship between periods and "womanhood". 

It remains to be seen whether women across the UK will feel empowered enough to reach out and take up the banner that Emma Barnett's extending to them.  When we consider the menstrual hit that women throughout history have taken for the wider team of humanity, and the stigma that they have endured over the years, it does seem that change is long overdue.  If that change is to happen, then it needs to start with proper and unembarrassed education of our girls - but also our boys - at a young age.  It needs to continue with adult women taking up the banner and refusing to feel self-conscious about a bodily process which has brought every single one of us into being.  And hopefully it'll culminate in a world of proud, unashamed women, seizing all the educational, social and professional opportunities the world can offer them. Whatever the time of the month.