My Story

By Caroline Hutchins, 29th June 2026

As I began to consider what I might say for my story, I found myself thinking ‘there’s not a lot to say, I’ve not really had much happen with my cycle’. Then all my experiences began to trickle through, and I saw that my immediate response was to minimise everything.

I find this intriguing, because it’s something I hear so often within this area, whether it’s others minimising our pain, discomfort or confusion, or it’s something we’ve learnt to do to ourselves. That might be part of your story, or it might not, and we may recognise that it affects our relationships with menstruation. So, I’ll try not to minimise or at least catch myself when I do it. This is my story so far…

Let’s start at the beginning, my first period. My menarche happened around the age of 13 or 14. I don’t remember exactly, but I’ve never been good with numbers anyway! Like others I’ve spoken to, this day is ingrained in my memory:

I was at school and it began with strong, uncomfortable cramps. They felt different to the usual stomach cramps, but that was my assumption initially – I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me. This continued when I went to the toilet and found dark brown marks lining my underwear.

A wave of embarrassment crashed over me in the cubicle. I don’t remember pooing myself! What do I do? Wiping myself clean and discovering the dark red blood between my legs altered the poo theory.

Oh wait, this is a period.

But why is there so much of it? My lesson on periods at the end of primary school had not prepared me for this ocean of blood in my underwear. Would it always be this much? Is this normal?

Being the awkward teenager that I was, I felt too embarrassed to tell anyone that could help. The solution: line my underwear with toilet paper and spend the rest of my school day terrified that everyone could see what had happened. Checking my chair when I stood up each time, in case I left a puddle there, confiding in the one trusted friend and spending whatever time I could hiding in the toilets.

It was horrible. I felt such fear and embarrassment, just willing the day to be over.

Finally getting home, I tell my mum that I’ve started my period. ‘Are you sure?’ she asks. I think she was convinced when I showed her my proof. So, she showed me where we kept the pads and how to put one in some clean underwear. Cuddle up with a hot water bottle and prepare for more to come tomorrow.

And that was it really – did you see what I did there? Just your average menarche. If there is such a thing.

Fast forward a few years and I’m at the doctors. My periods bring so much back pain that I spend days feeling unable to move, with hot spikes of pain shooting up my back from the smallest of movements. Can you guess the doctor’s suggestion for managing this pain during my periods?

Go on the pill. It worked; I didn’t get pain with my periods anymore. But they weren’t periods, were they? I didn’t know that then. I spent most of my adult life on the pill, enjoying the control I had over when my periods would arrive.

Little did I know that the pill sapped my energy, and of course I didn’t, this was just the reality of adult life! It was only as my journey into exploring and understanding menstruation began, that I saw the potential impact the pill was having on my body and my mind.

When I made the decision to stop taking the pill a year or so ago, I found a rise in energy as well as a sense of colour returning to my life. It wasn’t a sudden change, but through my attempt at cycle tracking at the time, I was noticing that I felt able to much more than I could before. I still wonder what life could have been like had I come off the pill earlier. That potential loss of time that has taken a while to process.

I’ll share a few other events without going into too much detail here. Interspersed across this time were doctor’s appointments about the headaches and light sensitivity I’d experience on my withdrawal bleed, visits to the doctors and the hospital for what was eventually ‘guessed’ as retrograde menstruation and the regular smear tests every three or so years.

My experiences at the doctors ranged from feeling very listened to and cared for to dismissed and shamed for taking up time for something I should just accept as part of having a female body. I’ve had internal and external ultrasounds, as well as an interesting conversation about how you should consider washing your feet as well as down there before going for a smear test!

That’s all that’s happened really. Hello minimising. These experiences form part of why this area interests me; but they weren’t what brought me here. An hour-long presentation on menstrual-cycle informed counselling during my training to become a counsellor, from a group I’d joined on Facebook, was where my passion ignited.

It’s as though I woke up. I woke up to something that I’d spent much of my life dismissing and enduring. I couldn’t and didn’t want to unsee this part of me that is so very deeply connected to who I am and how I experience the world.

So, here I am. Reading, watching and listening to whatever I can to learn more about menstruation and passing it on. This space is where I pass it on, in the hope that others can discover what menstruation means to them. My aim isn’t to persuade you to feel a certain way about your own experiences, but to find a safe place to begin exploring it for yourself. My story will be different to yours, and maybe you can find something in it for your own story.

© 2025. All rights reserved.