Note: I as the author recognize that people who don’t identify as females can menstruate, and my gender-neutral wording reflects this, however some of my links do not.
I almost didn’t write this article. I was nervous about posting an article about the taboo of menstruation publicly on social media. Then I realized that my nervousness was precisely part of the problem. So (obviously) I wrote this article with renewed vigor and annoyance at my brain, subconsciously influenced by patriarchal norms.
Menstruation is a taboo topic when other bodily actions like going to the bathroom or other issues for ovary-possessors like postpartum depression, gynecological cancers or even abortion get more public attention. In fact, the etymology of the word“taboo” is related to the Polynesian word for menstruation.In more modern times, the New York Metro tried to ban ads for Thinx(underwear allowing free bleeding during menstruation) from their subway cars. Earlier this month, in the Georgian capital Tbilisi a high-end fitness center was called out forhaving a sign telling menstruating women to refrain from swimming. Then a British news network polled its viewers asking “Should women be banned from swimming during their period?” @CerianJenkins, an intersectional feminist from Bath, sassily commented in the sexist poll with the hashtag #OutOfYourBloodyDepth.Essentially menstruation has become a private shameful occurrence for millions of people around the world due to pervasive sexist norms. It’s a problem, folks, that needs to be counteracted with comprehensive sexual education and access to a variety of methods and products to manage menstrual fluid.
Which is why I was overjoyed this week when Chinese Olympic swimmer Fu Yuanhui spoke honestly and forthrightly about swimming on her period. (She didn’t even use a euphemism according to the English transcript!) A reporter found her bowled over in pain, clutching the diving board after the race; her teammates helped her stand and Fu explains menstruating influenced her poor performance in the relay that day. She apologizes to her teammates and says, “But this isn’t an excuse.”
This is one of the most empowering scenes I have even witnessed in my entire 18 years of living. This woman has grown up in China where menstruation is not discussed to the point that ads for feminine hygiene products are banned during primetime TV. Many people on Chinese social media were confused about the absence of blood in the pool because tampons are not widely used in China. Yet Ms. Fu openly admits menstruation’s influence on her race and the reporter doesn’t try to silence or stop her from talking about it. Her teammates are supportive and help her up instead of leaving her off-camera in pain. Finally, Ms. Fu doesn’t blame menstruation for her loss of the medal, but she does acknowledge its influence on her performance putting her in a minority of menstruating athletes to do so. This was an important moment in this world where the truth is often sacrificed or altered for propriety’s sake. This was an important moment for all the athletes in the world who menstruate- Olympic or not- who often silently endure rather than speak up. Finally, it was an important moment for anyone who has coped with failure to achieve their goals knowing that their uterus shedding its endometrial layer that day was an extra barrier to their success.
Fu Yuanhui, I’d like to thank you from across the world. Your honesty about menstruation, a taboo topic to varying degrees worldwide, has been inspirational and informative to so many. Isn’t that what the Olympics are supposed to be about, not medal winning or competition or nationalism, but a way to recognize our common humanity? Fu Yuanhui is a true Olympian in that regard.