Setting my clock to 28 days

If you put together the amount of complaining I’ve done about my period, it would probably add up to days. For almost 15 years, my menstrual cycle has translated to discomfort, interruption, and routine disruption. Eventually, I realised we’re living in a world not designed for our bodies. The wake, do stuff, sleep loop doesn’t feel natural to any woman I know. Our clocks say 28 days, not 24 hours.

It all really clicked when I got back into the gym. I wanted to maximise my workouts and get the most out of each session, but something always felt off. Sticking to the same routine and expecting the same results became pointless. So I started paying attention… and voilà, everything lined up with my cycle.

So I took action. First, I educated myself on the phases of the menstrual cycle; the signs, the shifts, the needs of the body, mind, and soul during each one. I also started actually checking my period tracker and paying attention to where I was (instead of just waiting to notice when I wanted to either fuck my partner or murder him). If you really listen, your body tells you, but everyday life makes it easy to miss.

Then came the work.

And I say work because you really do have to relearn how to plan your month - and how to forgive yourself. To be gentle. To adjust expectations. To take advantage of the highs and allow the lows. For me, the follicular phase and ovulation mean productivity, errands, lifting heavier, deep cleaning, socialising, and clarity. I schedule the things I’ve been putting off and push myself in training. I’m not super creative during this time, and I don’t force it.

Then comes the luteal phase - a phase I saw as my mortal enemy for so long - and I let myself step back. During this time, I try not to trust my brain too much. I set boundaries (mostly emotional), communicate my needs (even when they’re messy), and treat this phase as preparation for bleeding. Like getting ready for a shedding, an open wound. I eat iron-rich foods. I switch my workouts to yoga, pilates, and stretching - no PRs, no expectations. I’m mindful of the content and music I consume because I can get melancholic fast, so I avoid anything extra sad. I let myself cry at small and silly things. I get a little messier, a little lazier... but with no guilt. I try to wait patiently and welcome it, instead of resisting it.

And then the bleeding comes. For so long, waking up to blood meant “ugh” and “fuck” and everything in between. Now, I actually cheer. I tell my partner and we celebrate - not because of pregnancy scares lol, but because an era is ending, a cleansing is beginning, and a reset is on the way. And I’m grateful he takes action too: tea in bed, heat pads, painkillers, cooked meals, and lots of sleep. If I can’t fully “act sick” for a couple of days, I prepare myself the best I can and move through the world with grace, without fighting what’s happening or getting angry that the timing is inconvenient. It’s okay... it passes:)

And honestly? It’s lowkey wonderful. The last couple days of bleeding feel like the aftermath of an everything shower: a little beat up but fresh as hell, ready to get out there… but tomorrow.

So turn your clocks. Notice. Allow.

And thanks for hanging out :)

P.S. Look, nature said luteal phase can be beautiful too!

             ❤️