Once a month without fail I decide to give up on all my goals and ambitions. “There’s just no point,” I sigh to my mother, who smiles and asks what day of my cycle I’m on. I grumble back, insisting it has nothing to do with my period, I just happen to have lost all motivation and inspiration. “What’s the point anyway,” I add, “when we’re watching the world burn?”
Nine times out of 10 my period shows up shortly afterwards and, a few days later, my creativity, motivation and drive all come flooding back. You’d think that growing up with a menstrual educator for a mother – and having a fairly solid knowledge of the cycle myself – I’d remember this each month when feelings of disillusionment and apathy creep in. But deep in the slump it’s hard to convince myself that it’s my hormones playing tricks on me again.
While I had a fairly good understanding of the monthly cycle as a kid and teen, I thought I was too cool to have in-depth discussions with Mum about the changing dynamics that come with it. I didn’t want to hear about taking advantage of high energy levels during my follicular and ovulatory phases and I didn’t want to acknowledge that I might need more rest during my luteal and menstrual phases. Pah! Too woo-woo!
I simply didn’t believe that each week could be that varied and I was determined to continue living life as society had shaped it: 24-hour day by 24-hour day – perfectly synced with a man’s hormonal cycle.
Second-wave feminism had to focus on proving women’s equality in the workplace and public life. While I acknowledge the importance of this, it often meant women were encouraged to downplay or avoid speaking about menstruation. That was probably the only viable approach, and the truth is we can mostly push through our luteal and menstrual phases to do important work.
But we’re now entering a different chapter: one in which we must teach society as a whole how the menstrual cycle affects us.
It wasn’t until my late 20s, when I was trying to get pregnant, that I really got into cycle tracking – also known as the fertility awareness method. I started taking my temperature every day and noting other changes in my body, including cervical fluid, and I was amazed to see clear patterns emerge.
It was thrilling to catch the temperature dip right before ovulation, then watch it rise and stay elevated. Even more exciting was realising I was pregnant when my temperature rose again at the time my period would normally arrive and produce a temperature drop.
I can understand hesitation in teaching girls about fertility awarenes. I’d argue though that teaching them to track their cycles is more likely to empower them than lead to unwanted pregnancy.
I would love to see cycle tracking added to the high school curriculum – not to be promoted as contraception but as a way to understand the body and gain in-depth knowledge of our fluctuating hormones and what they mean for mood, energy and productivity.
Another crucial factor is learning what’s normal and what’s not. Too many girls and women endure painful, irregular or debilitating cycles for decades, assuming it’s just “part of being a woman”. In reality, these can signal such conditions as endometriosis or polycystic ovary syndrome, and recognising that something isn’t right is the first step to seeking help.
As with many aspects of women’s health, our understanding has advanced through sharing our experiences, and social media has been the forum for that. Unsurprisingly, this has also had a downside. Tradwife culture in the US has co-opted cycle tracking as a way to reject birth control, which has led some progressive folks to dismiss it as a conservative practice.
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But every menstruator should enjoy cycle awareness, no matter what their politics are, and without sacrificing access to other forms of contraception. This is a reminder that knowledge isn’t inherently liberating – context and application matter. Understanding the menstrual cycle should empower choice, not restrict it.
While I have far more insight into my cycle now, you’ll still catch me wondering why my loved ones’ chewing noises make me irrationally angry on certain days, or why I suddenly find every man walking down the street strangely attractive (oh, ovulation, you hilarious beast). I am so excited to see more girls and women having menstrual cycle knowledge at their fingertips.
I just wish we could avoid getting all our information from social media. Providing menstrual cycle education to girls – and, really, all students – in high school would help advance equality.
Far from being woo-woo, learning to understand and work with the body’s monthly rhythms is empowering, fundamental health education. The menstrual cycle is fascinating and deeper knowledge of it can be life-changing.
Freya Bennett is a writer based on Dja Dja Wurrung country and is the co-founder and editor of Ramona Magazine
