aIt starts like this: nagging abdominal pain, an unrelenting lower-body ache, a sudden gush. An unmistakable feeling: the arrival of her period. Overcome by a wave of panic, she rushes to the bathroom. There, toilet paper is hurriedly balled up––a makeshift pad. For the rest of the school day, she sits with her eyes trained on the clock, face flushed, terrified that the blood will soak through and stain her clothes. The shame and discomfort are unbearable, though familiar. Because she can’t afford menstrual products, this ordeal happens every month.
She is not alone. Hers is a story shared by one in five teenage girls in America, for whom period poverty––inadequate access to menstrual supplies––is a painful, ongoing reality.
Women (and those who menstruate but do not identify as such) spend, on average, ten years of their life menstruating––480 periods over the course of four decades. $6,360 is the total cost of menstrual products a woman can expect to incur in her reproductive lifetime. That’s about $13 every month, which may not seem like much, but for many low-income families, is out of reach. For those subsisting on minimum wage, this steep price prompts heartbreaking decisions: food or tampons, rarely both. The financial struggle is compounded by the “luxury” tax applied to feminine hygiene goods in many states, as well as the product’s exclusion from benefits offered by federal welfare programs. Teenage girls are among the most likely demographics to experience period poverty, and thus suffer the unfortunate byproducts––indignity, anxiety, and absenteeism.
A recent study by BMC Women's Health found a causal relationship between the inability of women to secure menstrual goods and high rates of depression and chronic stress. Of the participants surveyed who experience period poverty every month, 68.1% described “symptoms consistent with moderate or severe depression.”
This impact on a woman’s well-being may be tied to the immense stigma and shame already associated with menstruation, but exacerbated by insufficient access to basic hygiene supplies. In place of pads or tampons, girls report using rags, newspapers, plastic bags, or socks. In addition to the risk of developing serious bacterial infections and diseases, such as the life-threatening toxic shock syndrome, these improvised options are exceedingly uncomfortable for girls. Moreover, young women are often reluctant to ask for menstrual products from school staff or peers, believing that menstruation signifies something dirty or humiliating. The litany of euphemisms for periods, used by men and women alike, (“shark week,” “lady business,” “girl flu,” “the curse” ) illustrate the taboo. The unwillingness to talk about menstruation perpetuates the cycle of misinformation about the female body and makes conversation about the solutions to period poverty unnecessarily fraught.
Furthermore, being unable to afford menstrual products stands as an obstacle to young girls’ academic success. 25% percent of teen girls have been absent from school in the past for this reason; they miss out on crucial instruction that may impact their grades and understanding of the coursework. Girls that manage to attend school in spite of these barriers struggle to concentrate. These impediments are ones their male counterparts do not face, and thus must be confronted in order to achieve true gender equality.
Across the country, elected officials have taken action to address period poverty. In California, efforts were spearheaded by Assemblywoman Cristina Garcia, whose Bill AB31 has exempted pads and tampons from taxation. This is promising––the move to reclassify menstrual products as medical necessities (instead of “luxuries”) begets coverage by programs such as the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program or Medicaid. The Menstrual Equity for All Act of 2019, drafted by Congresswoman Grace Meng of New York, aims, in part, to do just that. However, national politics, marred by endless obstruction and stagnation, appear to doom the fate of this vital legislation; the bill has yet to even see a vote in the House of Representatives.
Tackling period poverty cannot wait. The inability of women to procure menstrual goods is a public health crisis, and it’s leaving many of the nation’s most vulnerable––our young girls––desperate. We owe it to them to treat this issue with the urgency it deserves––to talk about period poverty, not in spite of being uncomfortable, but precisely because of it.
One in five girls. She could be sitting next to you in class, and you might not ever realize it.
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