Here's why we need to talk about our uteruses more

The past few weeks have been horrifying for women and assigned female at birth (AFAB*) bodies. 

Not only do we, as a society, have to deal with the terrifying news of mass shootings and increased gun violence in this country, those born with uteruses also have to face our freedom and access to reproductive rights in jeopardy because of overly conservative and overly ignorant people in power. 

While there's a lot to unpack on the subject, I wanted to debate the importance of discussing our uteruses, especially in times like this.

The uterus and its nuances 

Brazilian artist Anitta shared on Twitter her struggles with cystitis and how it took her years of suffering to finally figure out that she had endometriosis. According to Mayo Clinic, "endometriosis (en-doe-me-tree-O-sis) is an often painful disorder in which tissue similar to the tissue that normally lines the inside of your uterus — the endometrium — grows outside your uterus. Endometriosis most commonly involves your ovaries, fallopian tubes, and the pelvis' tissue lining."

She was opening up about her journey and how much pain she was in during one of her most recent concerts in Europe. I felt seen, and so did many other women who replied to her tweets. Amongst the sea of empathy and helpful tips, you still saw misinformation and judgment (!!!) from ignorant people. 

Why do we feel judged for something we literally can't control? 

It's still weird for many menstruators to discuss any issues related to their reproductive health. Speaking for myself, I felt strange saying "period" or "menstruation" for many years. 

I got my first period at only ten years old and felt ashamed. I couldn't go to the pool with my friends, had to skip dance and sports classes, and always had a problem with heavy periods and hormonal imbalance. I'm 5'7 today and wasn't much shorter than that when I was 10. People would look at me like I was different and made me feel that way. I also developed a curvy body with larger breasts earlier in my life, which was highly problematic growing up. The attention I got was not one that a girl my age—or any age—should've had (but that's a whole other topic we can dive into another time).

Back to my uterus: I had trouble understanding what was happening without the internet as we know it today and other young menstruators going through the same issues and talking about it. 

My first time going to a gynecologist was around 18. I'm not sure why it took me this long, but I blame the stigma around it and the lack of conversations about the topic. I didn't know not every menstruator had week-long, heavy periods. I didn't realize it wasn't common around my girlfriends to have that much pain during "that time of the month." 

After a few years of going to the doctor, my periods worsened. I then discovered I had fibroids when I was around 24. Healthline.com describes it as "abnormal growths that develop in or on a woman's uterus. Sometimes these tumors become quite large and cause severe abdominal pain and heavy periods. In other cases, they cause no signs or symptoms at all. The growths are typically benign or noncancerous." 

Finally, an explanation as to why something so natural felt so awful. 

I started being honest with people when they asked me how I was feeling during my period. I would be brutally honest and noticed that some people would feel uncomfortable hearing about mine. Other menstruators felt empathy and were open to discussing their problems with their uteruses. Luckily, now I can work from home if I feel pain, but I've had to call out of work before or go in feeling the absolute worse and looking like I didn't want to be there (and I definitely didn't...) 

I've also struggled with cysts and suffered awful side effects from birth control pills. And many people didn't understand that I wasn't taking it to "avoid pregnancy," but I was looking for ways to have a better quality of life. And I'm still on that journey. Discussing these helped me understand what other people are doing when in similar situations. 

The latest news from the Supreme Court's decision on Roe v. Wade reminded me that many people, even menstruators, do not understand the bodies with uteruses. They do not understand the issues they can have, what problems they can go through and the risks many women and AFABs face during pregnancy. This list goes on and on. 

On uteruses and religion

Separation of Church and State should be the norm, but it feels like a dream lately. When I discuss the latest news with friends and family members that consider themselves very religious, they see me as someone who no longer believes in God.  

I have no shame in saying that I, Livia, would probably not have an abortion if I got pregnant today. Today. With my partner, with the jobs we have, and the support system I got. But if I was in a situation in which my life was literally at risk, I can't say the same. So, we never know until we need to face it. 

But, regardless of what I would do in my own life, I have no right to judge others with different beliefs, let alone support laws and systems that aim to govern based on Christian beliefs.

The U.S. is home to people from all backgrounds, immigrants from all over the world, and so many religions. To be a true American is to respect that. And the Supreme Court and conservatives are definitely not living by that rule.

More talk about uteruses. Less talk about your own religious beliefs. 

*Assigned female at birth (AFAB) - a person of any age and irrespective of current gender whose sex assignment at birth resulted in a declaration of "female". Synonyms: female assigned at birth (FAAB) and designated female at birth (DFAB).