I'm Just a Woman. What On Earth Can I Do? (A Shameless Menstruation Story)


She squats down in the bathroom, her toes spread to grip the tile floor, and reaches inside herself to retrieve her moon cup. It’s her trusted ally, the eight ounce cup she wears when she's menstruating.

“Aaron? Are you there? Can you bring me a jar?” 

He hands it in through the crack in the door as she reaches for it with her left hand, the moon cup balanced in her right, before she makes the transfer. Blood into jar.

She tops it off with water and it could be pomegranate juice. Healthy. Rich.

She folds her mooncup back in and gives it a squeeze to make sure she's comfortable, just in case. Soap and water, turn off the light, and into the kitchen she goes. It’s a casual thing in their home; a woman standing there, holding a jar of her own blood.

It reminds her of a story she heard, in a time before war, when men desired the superpower that women had; the power of blood. Men gathered in ritual to cut the shaft of the penis.

They wanted to be like us.

She likes this story and doesn't care if it’s true. She does have superpowers. She bleeds every month from within and doesn't die. That blood is life. That blood is the reason every man (and woman) walks the face of the earth.

She's proud to stand in her kitchen with her jar of crimson red.

She finishes up the dishes, while the jar rests on the sill, before she goes to find a sweater. 

Where will I offer you? 

She steps outside, her mind pierced open by the light of a thousand stars, and bathes in the darkness. She remembers that she is small, just a woman on planet Earth. What can she do, here? 

Over the deck toward the backyard, up the cement steps that crawl with mint, and toward the redwood tree they planted for Father’s day, she goes. 

Over nine feet tall it is now; their little slice of California. One day, it’ll eat their house, and people will walk to it from miles away. How’d this tree get here? They’ll come and they’ll wonder. 

She kneels down in front of it and pours her blood into the damp mulch beneath it's lowest branches. They become one.

I’m just a woman on planet earth. What can I do here? 



I'd love to hear from you: How do you feel about menstruation? Blessing or Curse? If you've gone from feeling cursed to feeling blessed what have been some of the tools, practices, or resources that have helped you along your journey?

Big Love,

Jillian Xx

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