Why does the bleedin’ shopkeeper meticulously wrap every package of sanitary napkins in newspaper and then in a black plastic bag before handing it over to the customer? I deliberately ask shopkeepers not to misuse plastic and carry the bright orange packet in my hand. I am not proud of menstruating nor am I ashamed of it. It is just a fact of life, marginally more exciting than sneezing. Buying sanitary napkins—or condoms for that matter—is as necessary as buying diapers, which, by the way, no one hides in a black cover. Oh no. They are for cute, fat, leaking babies, aren’t they? Let’s show off that we added to the population of the world!
I wait for my periods every month, because their quality and quantity indicate the extent to which my ovaries and the rest of my procreative apparatus are well oiled. They do not make me feel womanly—that was a childish assumption. Womanhood and manhood are loaded words that cannot be defined or validated by breast size, the ability to bear children, penis size or the ability to perform sexually.
Source : Women Don’t Bleed Blue