Menstruation

Menstruation seems a hot topic at the moment. Who can. Who can't. Describing people who can as menstruators. People taking offence on all sides. So I thought I'd take a moment to talk about how menstruation has affected me. Although thankfully that part of my life is now over, menstruation has shaped and coloured my life in a way that no one who hasn't experienced it could understand. Unless you know what it likes to wake up in a bloodbath, you just can't, however much empathy you have.

There seems to be some confusion about what we call people who menstruate, so for the purposes of biological clarity, I am going to call them XX people. The only people who menstruate are XX people and no amount of magical thinking can make XY people have periods, however much they like to think of themselves as XX people. XX people who live as XY people can however menstruate, but that doesn't mean that suddenly the world has changed and XY people can have periods and babies. This is just basic biology, in case you were wondering. I too, wonder, often.

Anyway back to me as an XX person, with a lifetime's experience of having periods. I remember my horror when a friend let me in on the secret fo the glorious future that awaited me when I was 10. What the ACTUAL fuck? At some time soon I was going to bleed EVERY month till I was ancient? I didn't believe her (she was a notorious liar), but then I read about it in a book and realised she was telling the truth. From then until it happened I lived in dread. When I first had a visit from Auntie Flo aged 12, I was simultaneously repelled and disgusted, while feeling somehow I had reached some kind of rite of passage, where now I was a PROPER XX person.

During the years that followed I waited for my periods to fall into some kind of regular pattern, as I had been told in biology lessons. They never did, so I spent my teenagehood being taken unawares, finding myself at school or on the bus, or worse, out with XY friends (at a time when XX people never spoke about what happened to them on a monthly basis to their XY peers), going to the loo and discovering the telltale signs or worst still having someone whisper, "You've leaked." Mostly, they were ok, and I didn't suffer too badly (though I had many friends who bled heavily, suffered horrific cramps, or terrible PMT). However as I hit my twenties, that all changed, and I would find myself laid up for a whole week in agony, with bleeding that never seemed to end. I will forever be grateful to my mum who suggested a g&t to help period pain. (XX friends, it really works, if you've never tried it!). And then I went on the pill, and had a blessed few years of light regular periods. But it was always a pain. Especially on holiday. Going abroad and knowing that the inevitable was going to happen used to fill me with misery. It always cast a blight on a holiday knowing you might not have access to a loo when you needed it. And this happened to me (and every XX person, apart from the rare few, and they are rare, who never have them) every month for YEARS.

When I decided to have children I came off the pill and my body returned to its old unhelpful irrregular habits. After my first child was born this was made even more fun with the added bonus of excruciating labour like cramps for the first couple of days every month. I did then go through a glorious few years when it all calmed down and I became regular as clockwork. It was quite astonishing to me. I had heard XX friends talk about timing their periods to the minute, and for a short while it happened to me. It was almost blissful, apart from the nuisance of tampons and the whole - you know - bleeding bit.

Then towards the end of my thirties, I noticed something odd happen. The days between my periods got longer, and the first I knew of them would be a sudden and unexpected gush of blood, usually with no warning. They started to carry on for days, and typically I'd have a few heavy days, followed by a few light, and then just when I thought it was all over, I'd get another unwelcome outpouring. It was my friends, utterly miserable. But I was busy bringing up a family, and didn't really pay much attention to what was going on. It was only when I was on my way to a party and flooded in a horrible and humiliating way on public transport that it occurred to me that I should see a doctor. Several investigations later, it seemed that nothing was wrong, and the only suggestion was to have a coil fitted. I had heard horror stories about the coil, and was reluctant to take up the suggestion. So I ploughed on. By now I was using super duper strong tampons every month, along with double pads. And still I would leak through. I was working at home, and it remained manageable till I went back to work. After which I was so stressed about the whole thing I took myself back to the doctor's.

By now I had realised I was going through the perimenopause, and talking to various XX friends discovered I was not alone. Many of them were using the coil, and after another hideous train experience, I decided to bite the bullet. It was an unmitigated disaster. I bled every day for SIX ghastly months, until the damned thing came out and I was referred for an hysterectomy, which was the best damned decision I have ever taken. I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to wear white trousers confidently again. It's the little things...

So now... I am no longer a menstruator. And I don't fit into the category of who menstruate. Does it make me less of an XX person? I don't think so. Does it now make me an XY person? I still don't think so. Maybe there's some kind of hybrid XX/XY that no one has spotted yet. Who knows. the world is so about arse these days, anything is possible.

There will be people of course who will say, aha, you call yourself XX, but you don't menstruate just like an XY person who lives as an XX. We're all getting hung up on genitalia and you're the same. I will respectfully disagree with that viewpoint. The XY person who lives an XX life has a whole raft of experiences that I have not had. I sympathise with all the hardships that person has faced. And I have no time for any one who would seek to bully or shame that person for the way they have lived their life. What I would like in return is some respect for my lived experience as an XX person who menstruated. I no longer have to worry about flooding on a train, or being anaemic because I can't stop bleeding. But the stress of living like that for so long won't leave me quickly, and I am a fierce advocate for XX people going through menopause (with in many cases little or no support). I am also a fierce advocate for teenage XX people who now find they might have to share a toilet at school with XY people who live as XX, when they are coming to terms with periods at a time in their lives when they are highly self conscious. Putting myself back in my teenage head I know I would have found that horrrific.

I agree I am more than my now non-existent womb. I am more than an ex-menstruator. These are not the only things that make me an XX person. But I have also been shaped by the effect both have had on my life. Biology matters. And saying so isn't a crime.

#IstandwithJKRowling #IstandwithMayaForstater