Introduction
“You’re a woman, get used to the pain.”
We are fed up of being told this, fed up of being made to believe that suffering is part of womanhood. Somewhere we’ve made peace with the discomfort it brings us, be it a 12 year old girl figuring out how to use a sanitary pad or a 40 year old woman suffering from endometriosis. Sure, we appreciate the one period leave we get, but it’s not a privilege. It’s our basic right. Showing up despite our pain, our right to complain is snatched from us, because if we show up, we can’t complain. Slowly we get used to missing out, missing out on the beach vacation, missing out on the office brunch because we are bleeding profusely. “But, you can always take a pill and delay it.” We’re done taking contraceptives, pills and hormones, they eat us from within. Rachel Green was absolutely right when she said, “No uterus, No Opinion.” And when a period is delayed, we’re the ones buying pregnancy tests, taking them over and over again, trying to calm the anxiety that refuses to let go. We’re told to avoid alcohol or sugar, to stay away from certain foods, to not take painkillers because “they harm your body.” Every month becomes a cycle of rules, restrictions, and guilt. Why do women have to think about so much just to exist in our own bodies?
When Every Month Feels Like a Battle
The kind of helplessness that comes with period pain is so weird! It’s like we will never get used to it. Every month it’s the same discomfort and weird but yet it’s always different. You are bleeding profusely, your lower back is killing you, your insides are twisting, and yet you’re expected to get up, dress up, and show up. Your tummy is pinching you from within, and the hot water bottle is never hot enough. Why don’t people talk about how sore your breasts become, how wearing a bra feels impossible? You apologise for cancelling dinner. You’re judged for overeating your favourite cake. You smile through meetings while quietly bleeding through your clothes. You take another ibuprofen because nothing else helps. Even though you’re terrified by the side effects and every possible scenario of infertility crosses your mind. It may be bad for your body but you’re functioning because of that tiny little pill.
You hear the same lines again and again:
“It’s just cramps.”
“You should try yoga.”
“Pop a pill, you’ll be fine.”
But you’re not fine. You’re fighting your body every single month. Not only does your stomach, pelvis and ****** hurt, it has now spread to your legs, your breasts, your back, your mind, your body. It messes with your focus, your *** life, your mood, your confidence. You start measuring your month in cycles of pain and recovery. And the worst part? You start gaslighting yourself. You wonder if maybe you are exaggerating. Maybe everyone else just deals with it better. Because that’s what we’re taught, to endure quietly, to perform strength instead of demanding care. How are we expected to do our best professionally or academically? How can we be expected to sit at a desk for eight hours, running to the washroom every second hour to check if our pad needs changing? How are you supposed to commute in public transport when you constantly feel nauseous ? Just because it happens every month doesn’t mean we ever get used to the unpredictability of our bodies, the blood, the cramps, the bloating, PMS, the luteal phase, the discharge, and everything else that comes with it.
The Loneliness of Invisible Pain
You don’t get used to pain just because it’s frequent. There’s no visible wound, no cast or bandage to prove your suffering. You’re bleeding down there and trying to function while the world moves on like nothing happened. You can’t tell your mom how much it hurts because she rarely complained in her time. Your boyfriend sends a hot chocolate on day one and thinks he has done enough. You can’t tell your manager, the fear of being judged or being blamed for running away from work eats you up. You fear staining your clothes or ruining someone’s car seat or bed and the embarrassment that comes with it. You become conscious of your body, what it’s leaking, how it smells, what it’s doing. You start planning your meetings, your holidays, your *** life around your period. And when things get unbearable, you’re told to “be strong.” The same world that celebrates childbirth as the ultimate symbol of strength refuses to see period pain as real pain. One woman said, “There’s no way for someone to truly sympathize with pain. That’s why it’s so lonely.” We’ve normalized suffering so deeply that women learn to adjust their entire lives around agony, from teenage girls missing school to adults losing promotions, to mothers crying in bathrooms while their kids wait outside. It’s all part of a silent epidemic of dismissed pain.
The Emotional Weight We Carry
It’s not just about bleeding for five days straight. It’s the fear of your bodies betraying you. It’s the fear that something might be wrong with your uterus. The fear of not getting your period or for getting it for too long. The fear of bleeding too much, fear of bleeding too little. The fear that you might not be able to conceive. Fear of injecting hormones into your stomach during fertility treatments. It’s the fear of miscarriages, and the quiet shame that surrounds infertility. And then there’s the everyday judgment, for everything. For using pads instead of a cup. For using a cup instead of a period *****. For swimming on your period. For taking a sick day. For crying from pain. For talking about it too much. You’re told not to take too many painkillers because they “harm your uterus.” Not to eat sugar or cheese because it’ll “delay your cycle.” Not to take hormonal pills because they’ll “mess with your body.” But somehow, you’re expected to push through without relief. We become immune to judgment, or pretend to. I salute women who run 10K when they’re on their period, but as women, we humbly request, don’t compare women to each other. Everybody is different. Don’t judge women when they just want to sit on the couch with a blanket, watching The Notebook and cry. Just order them a waffle and leave them be. They don’t want to be called brave. Sometimes, they don’t want to be brave.
When Doctors Don’t Listen
Medical bias is a quiet villain in this story. Study after study shows women’s pain is taken less seriously than men’s. In one survey, 29% of women said their doctor dismissed their concerns. Some were told it was “stress,” others accused of exaggerating. The result? Years of delayed diagnoses. Endometriosis, adenomyosis, fibroids, pelvic floor dysfunction, all ignored until they become unbearable. Conditions like adenomyosis can cause anemia, infertility, and chronic fatigue. Every other doctor now considers PCOD to be very normal. “It’s very common, don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” they say. But just because every third woman has it doesn’t make it normal. These are real disorders with real consequences, hormonal imbalance, hair loss, acne, depression, irregular cycles, weight gain, infertility. Why are we normalising illness simply because it’s widespread? It takes an average of seven to ten years for a woman with endometriosis to get a proper diagnosis. Imagine living a decade in pain while being told you’re fine. Dysmenorrhea (painful periods) affects up to 90% of menstruating people. Doctors often mean well, but the training system is flawed. Menstrual pain is normalised even in medical schools. Unless symptoms scream of emergency, most patients are sent home with painkillers and platitudes.
Conclusion
Period pain is not “just in your head.” It’s everywhere. It affects how you think, work, love, and exist. It shapes who women are. Consequences of ignoring period pain ripple outward, into education, careers, relationships, and mental health. Ignoring women’s pain isn’t just bad medicine; it’s a public health failure. It’s inhumane. Every time you tell a woman “it’s all in your head,” you push her closer to silence, and silence has never healed anyone. We need better education about menstrual disorders. We need doctors who listen. We need workplaces that understand. Validation of our pain brings us peace, it’s the bare minimum one can do. Pain is different for every woman. How long must we keep screaming that?
