In this op-ed, A. Rochaun Meadows-Fernandez explores why Black people are more averse to alternative menstrual management methods, like the menstrual cup.

Growing up, no one ever explicitly told me not to talk about my period out loud. But it always felt clearly implied. In the event it was necessary, it was definitely inappropriate for “mixed company.”

Menstruation wasn’t something you celebrated. At the same time, it wasn’t something you ignored. It was simply a fact of life. As a Black woman, I was taught that it’s like any other trial — you deal with it, push through the pain, and move on.

For many in my community, that stigma was enough to discourage us from using nontraditional methods of blood catching, like menstrual cups and period panties. The responses I got after sharing my embracement of the cup with my loved ones made that clear. Their responses ranged from confusion to disgust, asking some variation of “Why the hell would you want to do that.” I didn’t understand the aversion. Menstrual cups are an equally viable alternative to pads and tampons; plus they're cheaper in the long run.

Still, I felt the acceptance of my period, cup or not, was important. There was so much stigma around menstruating, and I didn’t want to be ashamed anymore.

There is a stigma surrounding menses, regardless of race, for all who experience it. But I’ve experienced firsthand the way Black women can carry a culturally tailored stigma around our periods.

According to Cece Jones-Davis, a menstrual advocate, artist, and thought leader, Black women exist at the intersection of racism and gender oppression — and the messages we hear over our lifespans do much more than reduce the likelihood that we use hands-on menstrual management methods like cups and period underwear.

“Black women have historically believed ourselves to be 'wrong,' whether about our bodies or our hair. Our experience amongst an Anglo majority has given us deep-seated issues with the ways we show up in the world. And so, it is a natural progression for us to not have healthy relationships with our bodily processes, namely menstruation,” she explained.

For many in the Black community, it seems the period is inherently gross.

“[When] I think of period blood, it is very much connected to excrement; it is reminiscent of urine and peeing in the bed. It smells and messes up sheets. Again, growing up pissing in the bed was viewed shamefully in Black households,” Ida Harris, a writer who often covers Black culture, said.

Despite having had a negative view of periods since childhood, she decided to try a menstrual cup — and hated it.

While there are several reasons she wasn’t fond of her trial run with the cup, one of the key motivators was the blood. Like many Black Americans, Harris hasn't quite aligned the period pride movement with her perspectives.

“As a Black woman, I must say I have been envious of the period pride white women flaunt. Not that I am interested, but they have period sex, period oral, period positive dialogue. It seems so liberating, whereas in the Black community it's pretty much period oppression,” she said.

Others, like Sa'iyda Shabazz, who saw periods as a fact of life but nothing special, are open to period panties, but still are not particularly fond of the idea of the menstrual cup. “They gross me out, honestly. I'm more inclined to try period undies. But I don't want to handle the blood in its liquid form. I spill,” she said.