Ow

I am a 42-year-old very healthy woman, and have been so all my life. Currently, I work in the IT field. My partner and I go on regular holidays and we are more than happy with our respective lives. However, just when it seemed that there was nothing else that I could possibly want for, my libido began to ebb. I personally feel that there is no other feeling either man-made or nature-made which could surpass the feeling of the big “O”, and believe me, I have been to some super fantastic places and taken part in some mind-blowing adventure sports as well. So I should know. Could you kindly tell me the reason why this is happening? Is it marking the onset of that time when one would, realistically speaking, have to bow down to the way things spiral downward and accept that the big “O” will elude me for the rest of my life? That is owgasmically painful to even think of.
–Owgasmically Dissatisfied

Call me crazy, but there’s something a little, well…odd about this letter. And given the kinds of letters I get, that’s really saying something. Maybe it’s the fact that “owgasmically” isn’t a word. Which is something you should know, having been to some super fantastic places and taken part in mind-blowing adventure sports. I mean, really.

Anyway, to answer your question, it sounds like you’re experiencing the onset of perimenopause, which is the transition state before actual menopause for women. (For those of you not in the know, menopause is process by which a woman’s reproductive system shuts down. Your ovaries stop producing eggs and the production of estrogen also decreases somewhat. It’s a natural part of a woman’s reproductive life cycle—sort of like puberty in reverse.) Perimenopause can last up to ten years, and during this time, many women experience symptoms such as spotting, hot flashes, insomnia, vaginal dryness, a decrease in libido, and yes, problems achieving orgasm. You may want to check out various kinds of lubricants to see what will help you during intercourse, and also, give yourself some time to adjust and don’t beat yourself up if you’re having difficulty climaxing. Your orgasms (owgasms?) have not disappeared forever.

Of course, some women don’t experience any major discomfort while transitioning into menopause, and other women have a very difficult time. It’s all based on the individual, and there’s no way of telling which category you fall in. The only way to know what’s going on down there is to see a sensitive gynecologist who’s willing to help and advise you. And talk to your partner about this, too. She or he will need to be apprised, and you’ll definitely want their support as you go through this part of your reproductive cycle.

A Luxury Tax On Women’s Health

This may not be the right column for my question, but I thought I’d try anyway. I am a 19-year-old girl doing my PG. I don’t have problems in my relationships, and I don’t think I’m lesbian. It’s nothing like that. I just have a question about managing my periods. I’m living in a hostel and I have to manage my own expenses, and as I result, I find buying sanitary napkins very expensive. Can I use pieces of cloth and just wash and re-use them? Thanks!
–No Fancy Name Here

You know, I’ve gotten a few questions like this and while I’d love to give a snappy, witty answer and get it over with, I can’t because it just makes me too angry. Sanitary napkins and tampons have a luxury tax on them in many states in India. Yes, that’s right. These products that are necessary for women’s reproductive health and hygiene are, like imported chocolates and dinners at the Taj, considered frivolous pleasures in many places. It’s a small but very telling detail when it comes to talking about women’s rights and agency in India. And even without the luxury tax, the price for a package of Whispers is between 15 and 35 rupees for a pack of ten, which many women just can’t afford. Because they’re so expensive (and many bathrooms are not equipped for the disposal of used napkins or tampons), many women don’t have access to these products and end up using folded-up pieces of cloth when they get their periods—and cloth isn’t really that absorbent or hygienic. When it’s time to wash the used cloth, women are often embarrassed about hanging them to dry in an open place (because of the taboo and shame associated with menstruation), so the cloth pieces get stuffed into dark corners where they never fully dry, breed bacteria, and cause all kinds of infections and other other uglies when it’s time to use them again. Not good. So, NFNH, even though it’s expensive, I strongly recommend continuing to use the napkins and not switching over to cloth. In the end, it’s better to stay healthy and avoid yeast infections, urinary tract infections, and other, more serious health problems that can arise from re-used cloth. Just take the money from your partying budget and put it into this.

But there is another issue at play here, and it’s something that merits further exploration. The taboo and embarrassment that surrounds any open discussion of women’s menstrual cycles is one way in which women’s sexuality is controlled and kept under surveillance—and I’m not just talking about rural areas where menstruating women have to stay in a hut on the outskirts of the village until their periods are over. It’s easy to pretend that all the real oppression and brutality concerning menstruation happens among “other” people—the poor, the non-English speaking, and the rural. (The fact that it is so easy to “other” and marginalize these communities in any public discourse about women’s rights among the educated and middle class is in and of itself telling.) However, when sanitary napkins and pads are considered a luxury and are taxed accordingly, it’s clear to see that there is a callous disregard for women’s reproductive health and sexual empowerment that reaches to the highest levels of government and permeates every level of society. When we as women are made to feel this kind of shame around something as basic as menstruation, how can we be expected to make intelligent, empowered, and pleasure-fulfilling choices around any other aspect of our sexual and reproductive lives?

There is some good news on the menstrual hygiene front: the Indian Express ran an article last December about the Mekala Chinampally Girls’ High School in the Krishnagiri district of Tamil Nadu, which has installed sanitary napkin vending machines with incinerators in the girls’ bathrooms, so that students don’t have to miss school during their periods out of embarrassment and fear of staining their clothes. And the napkins are just 2 rupees a piece, made at low cost by women’s self-help groups in the area. District collector Santosh Babu is behind this initiative, in collaboration with UNICEF, and they are working together to install similar machines and incinerators in every public school in the Krishnagiri district, along with providing written material on menstrual hygiene to female students. If you’ve got the stones for this kind of thing, NFNH, bring this information to your college principal and start lobbying for similar vending machines to be introduced in your school. This is not an issue that’s going to disappear by you squirreling away a little extra personal money for your monthly sanitary napkin supply. Step up to the plate, think critically, and take action so that you and other women students access these necessary products and start thinking about your bodies with pride instead of shame.