For 22 years, I avoided the highs and lows of my menstrual cycle by taking an oral contraceptive pill. I told myself, as my mother had told me, that periods and hormones were to be avoided as much as possible.
It wasn’t until I had my first baby in 2020 that I even thought to question who I was without that pill. I dutifully went to the doctor after some months had passed and had a script written for the pill. I didn’t want to get pregnant again so soon, and I didn’t know any reliable alternatives to avoid doing so. Yet, I held those pills in my hand and knew that I would never take one again. And I haven’t.
Three years ago tomorrow, I birthed my second child. In many ways, that day was also my birth – a rebirth. I had finally reclaimed myself and was in the midst of a spiritual awakening. When my cycles returned after William’s birth, they did not do so quietly. And I have not hesitated to lean into the mess, discomfort, and powerful lessons that come with them.
Month by month, I observe my energy and power rise to a peak and then slowly drain away, until I feel like I am barely even here. As my energy retreats, so, too, do I. Everything about our world seems wrong. I turn inward to make sense of it. And then I bleed, and the cycle repeats.
Our cycle is not an accident. And it is definitely not a burden. Our cycle mimics Mother Earth herself, and we would do well to pay more attention to it.
Last night, my son woke up restless, as he often does during a full moon. I reached for him, and we went to lie on the balcony under the light of that moon. As he nuzzled and fed, my body released, and I bled again. This cycle was different to the last. They all are. This cycle brought a deep curiosity and a growing, quiet power. There is no more resistance in me. I surrendered.
As I woke up this morning, I knew that I would share the email I wrote last month, when things were less quiet and surrendered. Twenty-seven days ago, poised to bleed, I reached a crescendo of discomfort in my body and mind. I floundered for a solid purchase, desperate to pick up my phone and disappear into a void of mindless scrolling, but a part of me resisted and demanded I write instead. Here is what I wrote:
10th October 2025, 1:30 PM
I’m angry today. I don’t usually write when I’m angry. Maybe because it’s not my common state. Maybe because I, like most women, have been taught that anger is unbecoming of girls. Maybe there’s still a little part of me that cares that you’ll judge me – share this email around and whisper, “Is she okay?”
Okay – it’s all of those things. So let me start by saying, I’m pre-menstrual. I’m due to bleed … probably any minute, judging by the intensity of my emotional state. I used to hate being pre-menstrual. I hated being “hijacked” by my emotions. Now? I love it. I’ll tell you why.
About six months ago, I had a very intense pre-menstrual experience. I was booked in for acupuncture with my friend’s dad, and I spent the whole session ranting to him about what it’s like to be a woman living in a man’s world. I knew he was uncomfortable. In fact, he was visibly agitated and somewhat defensive. I finished my rant with a broad sweep of my arm, gesturing to the outside world. I said, “When I’m like this, it feels like the entire world is a facade. This is not how we are meant to be living.”
He took it all in and asked me, quite philosophically, “Well, why do you think you chose to incarnate as a woman in this life?” Well played, David.
Back then, I wanted to write about my experience. I talked about it with a few friends. One in particular has a very similar lived experience to mine. She said that sometimes she doesn’t know which ‘version’ of herself is the real one: the pre-menstrual one, or the other times one. I knew what she meant.
Our pre-menstrual time is the most powerful part of our cycle, at least for those of us lucky enough to have a natural cycle – free from hormones, implants, and other disruptive means.
During this time of the month, the veil is lowered. Emotions are closer to hand, especially powerful ones like anger. Things that we otherwise might put up with are intolerable. Words that usually remain unspoken are vehemently shared. And for some reason, all of this is considered a bad thing?
Here’s the thing. I used to nod in agreement when women spoke about the patriarchy and feminism and supporting mothers. Yes, yes, I’d nod. It’s all very bad, and more should be done to support women. But I actually never REALLY got it. Not until the last few years as I’ve slowed down, gotten deeply aligned with myself and grown my self-awareness to a wonderful place.
As part of my Awareness Practice, I spend a considerable amount of time considering my energy and where I am within the cycles—the seasons, lunar cycles, and my menstrual cycle. And the more I surrender to the energy that’s present, rather than forcing things, the more I appreciate how little the world is set up for women.
Men have a hormonal cycle that lasts 24 hours. You can compare it to the energy of the sun. The sun rises in the morning, consistently moves across the sky and sets in the evening. It does this 365 days a year.
A hormonal cycle like that is perfectly suited to just about every pillar of modern society: working hours, working weeks and consistent career growth, to name a few.
Women have an average 28-day hormonal cycle. And the way our hormones feel in our body during the middle of our cycle compared to the end of our cycle is quite literally worlds apart.
As we ovulate in the middle of our cycle, we have the power in our body to create life. Nothing less. We are powerful beyond measure. Extroverted, confident, sexual, assured, capable, energised. We feel like we can do anything—and we just about can.
On the other hand, as we wind down to bleed, we are left in a state of heightened emotion with very little reprieve from the demands of daily life. Despite having massively reduced energy and capacity, we are still expected to ‘clock in’ and ‘show up’ just as we do every other day. Motherhood, career, the fucking tedium of adult administration and bureaucracy marches ever onward.
And yet, if we allow ourselves a break, some space, and time to be curious about it, this time is just as powerful as ovulation, but in a very different way.
Thank God I left business, burned my life down, and began the inward journey because I would never have appreciated or understood this time otherwise.
I’m angry because there’s a lot to be angry about.
Look around. Everything about the world has happened because we have allowed it to. Human beings have become so fucking apathetic, compliant and conditioned that we question nothing.
We pay our taxes, go to our jobs, and struggle to make ends meet, outsourcing the raising of our children to minimum-wage earners. (No offence to childcare workers, they, too, are being fucked by the system.)
We eat shit food that isn’t really food, and we’re glued to our phones attempting to stamp down the discomfort that is ever-growing in our psyche.
We wake up to social media and see dead babies buried in the rubble of Palestine. We put our parents in nursing homes and work even harder to buy more shit that we don’t need, and it’s usually not until the very end that most people look back over their lives and think, what the fuck just happened.
If civilisation collapsed tomorrow, it would kill 99% of the population. Like, most of us don’t even know how to hunt, grow or source our own food.
We are starving. For spiritual depth. For deep community and being truly seen by our friends. We eat food, but most of us are nutritionally starving. Our bodies are starving for release and movement. Our lungs are starving for deep breaths of air. Our souls are starving for nature and a coming into alignment with the energy of the passing seasons.
But instead of slowing down to recognise and meet these needs, most of us are speeding up to obtain more knowledge, more money, more advancement, more possessions and just … more.
Mates, I don’t say this to judge you or anyone. God knows this human experience is a weird one. We are all doing the best we can. I get it. And every time I come close to my bleed, a natural cycle unadulterated by man-made hormones, I see the world and inside I scream, IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS.
Do you know what would fix every problem in the world? More support for women raising kids.
Do you know what percentage of the world is either a mother or [was] a child? Literally all of us – 100%. Trauma begins in infancy, when little humans lack the consistency of love, support, and community that is essential for growing up mentally resilient, curious, and brave.
Yet most mothers in the first world have two options open to them –
- Give up their own career or business to be everything to their little ones – sacrificing themselves and still being unable to meet all of the needs of a child, or,
- Outsource the raising of their kids to daycare centres, schools, nannies, etc, to pursue their careers and businesses, sacrificing time with the literal loves of their life.
Again, thank God I live with my parents, have a flexible lifestyle and a heavily invested, hands-on husband. The choices I’ve made haven’t come easily, and I, too, have had to sacrifice many of the parts of my life I once tied to my identity. But each night I go to bed having spent time that day deeply nourishing myself – body, mind and spirit – with my babies wrapped in my arms (literally co-sleeping), and a sense of possibility and freedom in my mind.
This anger that I’m feeling? It’s for all of us. All the wounded people in the world whose mothers did their best, but it wasn’t enough. All the mothers who spend their days feeling guilty that they’re not with the kids, or guilty because they are and they hate it! (Raising kids alone is a tedious, overwhelming experience.)
I feel angry that the world isn’t better for us all. That we’ve lost our ‘villages’. That our food is poisoned. That we’ve been fed the lie that it’s more important to go to work than take care of our health. For the many, many sacrifices that many of us make every single day. It was never meant to be this way.
This afternoon, I will make my daily pilgrimage to the beach. I’ll use my Awareness Practice. I’ll likely swim. I’ll definitely do a breathwork sequence and land myself fully back in my body. The anger will dissipate. Likely, I will bleed.
Tonight I’ll take it easy, maybe watch a movie while Dreamboat feeds the kids—bathes them. I’ll be waiting with stories and cuddles when they’re done.
All of this will be forgotten. At least for a little while. Until next month, as I get set to bleed again, and all the injustice will rise again. I don’t know what to do about it yet. And that’s the marvellous thing about anger – it demands action. Action will come. For today, though, these words are enough.
If you ever look around at the world and think, What the fuck? I see you. You are not alone. The world right now? It is not a vibe.
If you straight up think I’m crazy and think all is as it should be, I’d ask you this.
When was the last time you questioned things? I mean, really, really questioned WHY things are the way they are?
Why is money? Why do we work from 9-5? Why are there 12 months in the year? Why are there 30 days in a month? Or 31. Or sometimes, inexplicably, 29??? Why do we use toilet paper? Why do we call ibis bin chickens? (They are actually mighty, glorious, once-worshipped birds) What the fuck is up with capitalism? Why don’t billionaires pay taxes? Why aren’t mothers paid more than $720 a fortnight to stay at home and raise their kids? Why do they put poison on crops to kill, literally kill animals, and then feed it to us? Why do we put fluoride in our tap water? Why are boys told not to cry? Why are girls told not to get angry?
Why why why why why.
I’m angry today, and that’s okay. When I’m angry, I have less of a filter. Actually, that’s a damn good thing. The world needs more people asking why, and allowing their anger to drive action that changes things—at least a little.
Love Lauren
**Originally published to my email database on the 6th of November, 2025**
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