My Experience with Menstrual Pain and Healthcare

In hindsight, I have always been more comfortable with myself than I give myself credit for. As a little girl, Mulan was my favorite Disney princess, and a song that often played in my head was “Like Other Girls.” The lyrics are a beautiful melody comparing the girlhood experience of seeking freedom to my feminine health. Puberty isn’t easy for any young woman, but with the addition of PCOS, it was that much more difficult. 

My peers and friends did not seem to have the same issues as I. Still, the reality is, I have always been more vocal and comfortable about my period, and not the only PCOS girl amongst me. But it was isolating being the only person being vulnerable about my woes, and it seemed like my period went from bad to worse with the pain in my early 20s. 

One period, when I was about 21, in Kareema’s typical fashion, I shared my woes and the pain I was experiencing on Day 1 of my cycle, but this time felt excessive. I was running through pads and kept a constant pain of 10! At a certain point, I sought advice from the other women in my life, mostly friends, and they made me feel dramatic and less of a woman because I was having such pain and not pushing through. Hence, my song choice, I want to be like other girls, but eventually I tuned out the noise and had to figure out my next course of action. There was no way I could do 4 more days of this type of pain, so if the pain didn’t subside by the next morning, I would go to the ER.

As I’m writing this, I still feel the same instant regret of not just calling an Uber and going solo, rather than waking my mom up. She was exhausted and didn’t move with the haste my pain level needed, but eventually got me to the ER, and before I knew it, I was all checked in and in my own room. The doctors were less than helpful, and initially convinced that this was somehow pregnancy-related. I remember being asked several times, and of course, the standard pregnancy test. I like to believe it wasn’t racial. My mother, on the other hand, felt the need to defend my virtue and tell a technician that I was raped. That never sat well with me; it was my business to disclose, not the issue at hand. I wasn’t a virgin, yes, I’m a survivor. Still, I have also enjoyed consensual sex that did not lead to pregnancy. It seemed everyone was preoccupied with different issues than the one at hand, A young Black woman with severe menstrual pain and not seeking pain meds, but a solution moving forward. I would love to say that was the first and last time my period led me to the hospital. Still, each time I left with no proper diagnosis, just medication, it was very telling of America’s healthcare system. 

The moment I stopped being a symptom fighter and advocated for my diagnosis of PCOS, I was able to treat my feminine health as a part of my overall well-being, because I am a woman, my feminine health and well-being are my health. My menstrual cycle has become regular, and the pain is manageable. I wonder how much smoother my periods and well-being could have been if I had been diagnosed and not just treated for one symptom. But I did learn something through being vulnerable and sharing my truth. I am just like other girls; womanhood is a different adventure for everyone.