A Quick Primer on the Moon’s Cycles

🌑New Moon – Winter – Menstruation – Night
 
During the winter months, we crave warmth: think cozy blankets, a cup of hot coffee or tea, curled up on the couch with a good book. It’s a quiet time, a time of solitude. In nature, it appears that there is death—the leaves have fallen, the seeds are sleeping under the earth, the lively green hues have changed to white or brown or gray. But we know life is just still, just for a season. For a night.
 
We feel similarly as menstruation approaches. What is pathologized as PMS—the moodiness that may truly come from the desire to be alone, the craving of coziness and comfort and stillness—they are calling us to this winter energy, to follow what our body is desiring. It is a time of going inward, solitude, trusting your deeper knowing and perhaps keeping to yourself.
 
I truly believe that some of the physical discomforts we often experience during menstruation are in part because we are expected (by others and ourselves) to show up exactly the same as any other day, and we just don’t have the energy to do that. So it manifests as cramps and headaches and a sour mood—we aren’t meant to show up with the same energy day in and day out.
 
And during this time, the moon is doing the same. She has gone dark. Like the seeds, she is still there, though we can’t see her. This is the New Moon. This is the beginning of the cycle.
 
🌓Waxing Moon – Spring – Follicular Phase – Dawn
 
During the spring, we start to see life emerging again, by way of crocus emerging from the earth and buds arriving on trees. It is the start of something new.
 
The waxing moon is growing brighter by the day, the hours of sunlight are getting longer, and in our cyclical bodies, our hormones are typically encouraging one or more follicles to develop in our ovaries. You may feel more energized coming away from your bleed, feeling creative and lively as you thaw from winter’s cold.
 
There is a sureness here—no pregnancy is present, yet there is hope for what’s to come.
 
🌕Full Moon – Summer – Ovulation – Day
 
This is the time to shine. This is the time of travel and parties and gatherings and work and when the energy of the extrovert comes out. Our energy moves outward and wants to be with others. This is a great time to launch something new, or write an essay or poem or throw a party. You might also feel more aroused, or your partner may seem a little more attractive—and attracted—to you. This is biology telling you it’s time, that this is your fertile window in all the ways.
 
All around us, things are in full bloom! The garden is robust and the sun is ripening fruit on the vine, showing off Nature’s fertile glory. The grass, the trees, the roses—it’s all lush and verdant.
 
THIS is full moon energy, as she shines in all her brightness, lighting our path at night and calling us to stay up late and play.
 
🌗Waning Moon – Fall – Luteal Phase – Dusk
 
Finally, we transition to autumn. The leaves are falling, the summer harvest is brought in, and the garden beds are put to rest. We look back on what we’ve gathered and grown, and we plan ahead for the long winter months ahead.
 
The light of the moon grows dimmer day by day, as does the length of daylight.
 
During this phase, the corpus luteum sends hormones to the womb to either support the lining for implantation and pregnancy, or to prepare the blood to release in a few short days. It is a time of waiting—if you are trying to conceive, this may be the hardest part, as there’s no way to know if you’ll be moving into another winter, or if you are going to shift into a whole new cycle with a pregnancy. As with every other phase, there is no way to speed it up or skip ahead.
 
And then, we return to winter, to the new moon, and to menstruation. We can know what to expect, because it always is, always has been, and always will be. This is the cycle of things. This is life and death and life.
 
When we tune into our cycles, we can see them as a wayfinder or a map. We are reminded that what is will not last—whether that’s discomfort or pleasure. Both are temporary, they will leave, but they will emerge again.
 
This is a primer written from my own experience, reading, and heart. Your own cycles may feel different, but I’d guess the energies are similar. I don’t always bleed with the new moon, and there’s nothing right or wrong about that. This is one of the gifts of my moon journal practice—a daily practice of noticing and self-study. Over time, you come to integrate your own story into self-knowledge, and are reminded by your own biology and the seasons of all that is, and all that is to come.
 
If you’re curious about this practice, I’m hosting a free online workshop about on Tuesday, November 22, 2022. You can sign up here.

How Infertility Helped Me Befriend My Period

Infertility helped me befriend my period.

I know, it sounds counterintuitive. But it did. Somewhere between tracking my bleeds and anxiously waiting for ovulation, I started a new relationship with my body and Aunt Flo.

Most of us picked up that we were supposed to keep track of our periods somewhere along the line. I remember hiding a little folded up calendar and golf pencil under the decorative hand towel on the back of the toilet in middle school, and marking the days I bled. I picked up that that was my “cycle”—just the days I bled. That was all I knew was important—though I didn’t really know why.

No one taught me about the rest of it—the full, magical cycle from one bleed to the next—until I was desperately trying to get pregnant and my doctor recommended I pick up a copy of Taking Charge of Your Fertility (highly recommend this book at any stage of life if you’re a person who bleeds, btw). Why didn’t anyone tell me about more than just managing the blood and keeping quiet about it?

Imagine a first-grade curriculum that only teaches about Winter—skipping over Spring, Summer and Fall. That’s ¾ of the year and would never fly. So why was that ok for menstrual education?

When my husband and I started trying to conceive, I started obsessing over my whole cycle. I mainly was just looking for signs of ovulation, which unfortunately weren’t quite as clockwork as I’d hoped. But as I started listening to my body’s signs, I started noticing other things as well.

Somewhere along the journey (long enough to be tagged with “unexplained infertility”), I was introduced to a moon calendar journal. This was an invitation to check in daily and keep track of what I found. Not just when I was bleeding. Not just when I was ovulating. But every. single. day. 

I started tracking how I felt and what I did that day — how was my energy? My mood? Was I aroused? Irritable? Was my energy outward-focused and extroverted, or did I want to be by myself? Did I run, do yoga, meditate? Take a bath? Did I get into nature or watch TV or binge brownies or carrots or have a glass of wine or drink enough water?

And oh yes—by the way—was I bleeding or ovulating?

I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t think this would be the magic bullet that would make infertility a mere memory. But it truly did turn out to have some magic to it. By taking a few moments each day (the last couple minutes before my head hit the pillow), I started to tune in with my body in a whole new way. I noticed that as my bleed was approaching I was more interested in being alone, maybe curling up on the couch with a book, going inward as I prepared for my body’s own personal winter. When I was ovulating I was the opposite — bright as the summer sun and ready to take on the world. 

I realized the gift of the week between the end of my bleed and ovulation. Especially while TTC, I reveled in the ease of these days — there was no chance I was pregnant, so I could have a cocktail if I wanted without any anxiety. I also wasn’t holding on to any hope that I might be pregnant! that could be dashed as I hadn’t entered the Two Week Wait yet. It was freedom.

I started making plans according to my cycle. I attended a conference that was scheduled when I was expecting my period. Going into it, I gave myself permission to skip any sessions or networking events that I wanted to. I swapped happy hour for some gentle yoga in my AirBnB and an early bedtime. I honored what my body was asking of me instead of pushing through like I’d been conditioned to do and had always done before (hello, patriarchy!).

By paying attention every day of my cycle, I learned to listen, respect, and nourish my body. And it completely changed my relationship to my period. I started practicing—then feeling—gratitude for it. 

We have been conditioned by our society, from the first bleed in elementary or middle school, that this is our curse. That it is something to be ashamed of. That it will be miserable. I’m not saying that it’s not uncomfortable — I've had incredibly painful periods for most of my life, and through the six years of trying to conceive, each one had the added heartbreak of yet another missed opportunity of a child. 

But I started practicing gratitude for this incredible function my body was doing. Every month (or so), my body sheds this thing it doesn’t need. If there is no embryo to implant, it knows that the lining is no longer needed, and it just lets it go. 

I started leaning into that energy and asking the question: what else can I let go of? I had to let go of a lot of could-have-been babies. I let go of shit in my attic. I let go of jobs. I let go of clothes from my closet. I let go of relationships. I let go of tampons when I realized it felt like they were literally keeping this energy stuffed inside me.

I started leaning into the letting go, and rejecting the narrative of the curse. I started seeing my bleed for the gift that it is: a reminder to release anything that’s not serving me. I allowed myself grieve each loss of potential through the seasons of TTC, then leaned in and let go.

Over the years, my period has become less miserable. I take time off for it when I can—not because I’m in too much pain to work, but just to let myself rest. I don’t expect myself to show up like I did two weeks ago, and I trust that I’ll be able to shine brighter again in a week or so. I stay in sweats and binge Netflix for a day. I give my body the comfort she deserves.

By practicing gratitude for my bleed, honoring the cyclical nature of my body, and leaning into the letting go, my relationship with my period has been completely transformed. I no longer dread her arrival. She’s now an ally, a friend who still shows up unexpectedly at times, but who I typically can sense is on her way.

And like a good friend, she reminds me to check in, be present in my body, and asks what I can clear out of my closet.

Product Review: The Diva Cup

I was always a pad-and-tampon kinda girl until a few years ago. In 2015 my husband and I decided to do part of the Camino de Santiago in Spain, which meant we were going to be walking for 5 days, carrying everything we brought with us on our backs.

Of course, you know the timing of the trip lined up with when I expected my period. Of course.

The last thing I wanted was to pack a box of tampons just-in-case and take up precious space and weight. Especially considering the fact that my bleed was still pretty unpredictable at that time, so it stood the chance that I wouldn’t need it at all.

These were the circumstances that led me to finally try a menstrual cup. Back then (ok it wasn’t that long ago) the Diva Cup was the only product on the market—but if you search “menstrual cup” today you’ll find all sorts of makes and models!

I bought it a few months early so that I wasn’t testing it out on the road, and gave it a couple cycle’s practice. Here’s my review, including things I learned and how it best serves me now:

Pros:

• Reusable/less waste

• You can wear it up to 12 hours on a light day

•  More comfortable than tampons, especially on a light day

Cons:

• Murder factor is high when removing it

• Makes my cramps worse

• Challenging to get in and out, especially if it pops open when you’re not ready for it...

• Leaks on heavy days

• The stem can be poky*

Overall, it has become something I would wear if I wanted to go for a swim or take a bath, or if it was a light day and I didn’t want to worry about changing pads. Though I always wear a pad for backup, because it usually leaks on me when it gets full.

Couple things to note:

• Flip it inside out if the tip bothers you (this was a game changer for me!)

• Make sure it seals around your cervix by squeezing the air out of it

• Bear down gently if you have a high cervix and have a hard time getting it out

• Check out the videos here for help with insertion!

In summary, this isn’t my fave right now, but it served me well for a few years. It might be good for you if you have light flow and a higher cervix, and aren’t afraid of getting all up in there!

Product Review: The Diva Cup

I was always a pad-and-tampon kinda girl until a few years ago. In 2015 my husband and I decided to do part of the Camino de Santiago in Spain, which meant we were going to be walking for 5 days, carrying everything we brought with us on our backs.

Of course, you know the timing of the trip lined up with when I expected my period. Of course.

The last thing I wanted was to pack a box of tampons just-in-case and take up precious space and weight. Especially considering the fact that my bleed was still pretty unpredictable at that time, so it stood the chance that I wouldn’t need it at all.

These were the circumstances that led me to finally try a menstrual cup. Back then (ok it wasn’t that long ago) the Diva Cup was the only product on the market—but if you search “menstrual cup” today you’ll find all sorts of makes and models!

I bought it a few months early so that I wasn’t testing it out on the road, and gave it a couple cycle’s practice. Here’s my review, including things I learned and how it best serves me now:

Pros:

• Reusable/less waste

• You can wear it up to 12 hours on a light day

•  More comfortable than tampons, especially on a light day

Cons:

• Murder factor is high when removing it

• Makes my cramps worse

• Challenging to get in and out, especially if it pops open when you’re not ready for it...

• Leaks on heavy days

• The stem can be poky*

Overall, it has become something I would wear if I wanted to go for a swim or take a bath, or if it was a light day and I didn’t want to worry about changing pads. Though I always wear a pad for backup, because it usually leaks on me when it gets full.

Couple things to note:

• Flip it inside out if the tip bothers you (this was a game changer for me!)

• Make sure it seals around your cervix by squeezing the air out of it

• Bear down gently if you have a high cervix and have a hard time getting it out

• Check out the videos here for help with insertion!

In summary, this isn’t my fave right now, but it served me well for a few years. It might be good for you if you have light flow and a higher cervix, and aren’t afraid of getting all up in there!

Product Review: Intimina Ziggy Cup

I posted a story on instagram about this a couple months ago and some of you have been asking for the review, so here it is. I have found that it takes a few cycles to really get a feel for a new menstrual cup, so I wanted to give it at least 3 rounds before I shared my thoughts.

And it’s a good thing I did! Because I figured out something MAJOR about this one during my last cycle. I’ll get to that.

Here’s my thoughts on the Intimina Ziggy Cup.

Pros

• Easy to insert and remove

• Reusable/less waste for the environment

• Comfortable/minimal feel when it’s in the right spot

• You can empty it without taking it all the way out!

• Cute pink color and VERY soft material

• Discreet and breathable storage case

Cons

• Murder scene factor is high when it comes to emptying it (aka bloody hands)

• Easy (for me at least) to get it in the wrong spot*

*So, during the first cycle I didn’t have high hopes. The first day I wore it, it FAILED the workout test (meaning I had lots of leaking at the gym). I figured it just wasn’t a heavy-day cup for me. BUT. This last cycle it did the same thing, so I did some investigating. Turns out—I assume because of the flat shape of it, combined with my anatomy—I accidentally placed it IN FRONT OF my cervix, which of course is going to decrease the efficacy. Once I got it in right, and henceforth always checked to make sure it was in right, I’ve been good to go.

In summary, compared to the Diva Cup (my only other cup experience to date, and yes a post is coming about that too), it’s easier to put in, takes the same effort to make sure it’s in RIGHT, is much easier to remove, more comfortable, and leaks less.

PLUS the fact that you can empty it without taking it all the way out gets MAJOR points for this bleeder.

It boasts that it’s friendly during period sex, but I haven’t tried that yet...nor do I really plan to, to be honest. But you do you. ;)

This is my new go-to, but I’ll keep you posted if and when I try another. Keep an eye out for my Diva Cup review next week.

What’s your go-to menstrual product? Share in the comments!

On Menstruation

Let’s talk about menstruation.

What was your first bleed like? Was it a positive experience? Were you prepared for it? Were you scared, ashamed, mortified?

My first period came when I was 10. I was on a field trip to Makoshika State Park, and I was mortified. I didn’t tell anyone. Later that week my mom called me downstairs to the laundry room to point to a pair of undies and ask what was going on, and I was again mortified. My friend was over and I was just sure she was going to hear what we were talking about. I don’t remember what my mom said. I don’t remember if she gave me pads or where we went from there. I just remember I didn’t want to talk about it. I felt shame.

I don’t know if it’s because I was so afraid to talk about it then, but I really want to talk about menstruation now. I feel that our culture has placed so much shame on it, and we need to shed light on it to bring it out of the shadows. I’m grateful for many authors* and leaders talking about it more, and I hope this trend continues.

Our blood is not dirty. It is not filthy. It is not shameful. The Red Tent of Biblical lore was not in fact a place where the “unclean” were sent, as I learned it—it was a place where women bled together, shared stories, and taught one another what it was to be a Woman. (Pick up the novel The Red Tent for an incredible read!)

We are cyclical beings in a patriarchal society, which expects us to show up exactly the same every day of every month. But we do not work that way. We work in a 28(ish) day cycle, and we show up differently in each phase.

We are accused of “PMS-ing” or being bitchy when we have a hormonal shift that turns us inward when we feel less accommodating to others. This is fine. This is good. This is not something to be ashamed of or medicated away, but something to embrace and plan around.

When we are mid-cycle and fertile, we are magnetic and energetic! This is the full moon energy that many of us wish we could embrace and live most of the time. But we aren’t meant to live here most of the time, just as we don’t expect the moon to be full most of the month. We need our downtime, we need the dark moon.

The menstrual cycle is a full cycle. Though we commonly call our bleed the cycle, we are constantly in the cycle; bleeding is just 5-7 days of it. There is power in embracing our cycle and the magic of each phase.

Here is a list of some of the resources that have helped me navigate my relationship with menstruation. Let’s keep this conversation going and continue to shed light on it!

Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom by Christiane Northrup

Love Your Lady Landscape by Lisa Lister

Do Less by Kate Northrup

(Image by DO MATO Design)