The other day, while on the phone with my boyfriend, I left him to use the bathroom. To my dismay, I discovered that I had begun my week of hell. The one week out of my month that is filled with excruciating pain, unquenchable cravings, and emotions that I cannot understand. I got back on the phone with him and said, “I just got my period.” To which he replied, “Good.”
Every month, he has the same response; he is relieved. To him, it is another month in the clear, another egg that goes unfertilized. This is never the response for which I’m looking. I would like a little more empathy, but when I think about it, he can’t really know what a period is like. So empathy is a silly thing to ask of him. He has, obviously, never experienced it. So, how could he relate to and feel my pain? When I’m feeling down about other parts of my life, he consoles me and understands, but with this, we have too differing of views.
I always hear women complaining about how men don’t understand periods or how they’d like them to bring them chocolate or other things during it. This would be reasonable if men had any idea of what we’re going through, but they don’t. Maybe we should be understanding that men can’t be understanding in this situation. We could embrace that this experience is uniquely ours, even though that means we have to go through it alone each month.
It’s unfortunate that periods are such a lonely thing because it’s the time that we wish we could have the most comfort. But, it’s cool having this unique experience be a part of our existence. There’s a certain type of pain that we bare. It goes hand in hand with childbirth, but I can’t testify to that experience, fortunately.