We talk about everything with our girlfriends: which celeb we fancy, who we’re dating, sex, and we’re pretty open about our bodies too. Revealing our most intimate body hang ups and issues with our cellulite and wobbly bits are common hot topics over a bottle of wine. It only takes one person to bring up in conversation: “If I had plastic surgery…” to get everyone else going. We’re good at discussing the juicy bits in life and we’re not so bad with empathising. But, talk about… periods? That’s not usually the discussion we want to bring to the table.
Talking about periods isn’t exactly a pleasant one; it can be embarrassing, it’s most certainly a sensitive topic, but it’s also normal. So why then, are periods the last thing we ever want to talk about with those closest to us? If we don’t talk about it, I guess no one has period problems. Right?
I hated puberty. I passionately detested my body developing and when my periods started I was revolted. Having older sisters, I knew about periods in the sense that they would descend upon me in my teens (if I was lucky) and steal my childhood like a punch in the stomach. It literally happened just like that. One morning during a school lesson I recoiled with intense pain. Not a tummy pain I’d ever known before but would come to know – and dread – every month from that moment on. When I went home that day I discovered It had happened. I was mortified. The reality: my mum bleaching my knickers and handing me a pack of inch thick sanitary towels she’d held in store for me, dropped like a bomb. This is what it meant to be a woman. Dirty, shameful and painful.
Despite how humiliating it felt that day my periods began, my mum took it all in her stride and just did what needed to be done. The fact I experienced such intense pain in the dramatic way it happened spoiled my school years. I dreaded every month, not only for the pain but the way it caught me unawares. Being at school added to the anxiety; I prayed I wouldn’t come on ’til I got home.
I had some very good friends at school but we never once discussed periods, it was just a taboo subject to bring up. It still is a taboo. The problems encountered over the years, of being caught unprepared, most likely ring true with many girls and women but I’ve never read about it or heard about it, because periods… well, we don’t talk about them.
Recently I was told about a new product called Diary Doll, brought to the market by business partners and household names Carol Smillie and Annabel Croft. Diary Doll isn’t terrifically self explanatory as it’s neither a diary nor is it a doll. Diary Doll is a brand of knickers that’s designed with period problems in mind. Fabricated from cotton to look inconspicuously like ‘normal’ knickers, they’re lined with an invisible waterproof layer that, when worn with tampons or towels without wings, protect the wearer from the risk of sanitary mishaps, since engaging in sport or wearing certain clothing can be a dubious consideration at that time of the month.
That’s what Diary Doll intends to solve: eradicate worries and concerns so life can continue as normal. Periods are part of being a woman, but being a woman shouldn’t feel dirty or shameful. If Diary Doll help just a bit to quash that negative feeling during our periods, it can only be a positive change to the way we deal with and consider our periods, and that I’m all for.
*This was not a paid advertorial and I have not tried a Diary Doll product myself to comment on it’s effectiveness.*
Author of Becky’s Boudoir