Periods are big news at the moment.
Back in March, Ruki Kaur posted a picture of herself on Instagram in which you could clearly see a patch of blood in her groin area. Instagram took the picture down and Kaur reposted it. They took it down again, but after a storm of social-media protest, Instagram apologised for their 'mistake' and reinstated it again.
Then just last week we had Donald Trump criticising Fox News debate moderator Megyn Kelly, saying on CNN, "You could see there was blood coming out of her eyes ... Blood coming out of her wherever." It's not new to have a man accuse a confident, vocal woman of being subject to 'that time of the month', especially if she's questioning his motives, but it's not something you usually hear from a man running for the US presidency. That comment probably lost him the race.
And this week we had the news that Kiran Gandhi ran the London Marathon in April while she had her period, but decided to run tampon-free in support of women in countries who have no access to sanitary protection. Interestingly, the incident wasn't reported by anyone there at the time - maybe they thought she'd simply had a 'mishap'.
And oh, the fear of that mishap. The leak. I remember the very real fear that it would happen at school. I started my periods while still at primary school and in the beginning, had to wear things (we called them 'things' in our house because the words 'sanitary towels' were just to awful to say out loud) that resembled single-sized duvets between my legs all day.
From being dropped off at school in the morning to going home at night I worried about leaking. If I sat down too long during lessons the worry would mean I couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was how I could subtly spin my skirt around when I finally stood up just to check the back.
At secondary school, my friends and I had a silent agreement that we'd check each other during those times. "Am I ok at the back?" I'd whisper through unmoving lips. They'd nod. I never leaked there, but I did in ballet class once, whilst wearing a light-blue leotard. I nearly died of shame when I realised later.
Managing this situation takes up a lot of time in women's lives. If you're a man, you won't notice it because we are so practised at hiding it. If we think we might be in 'danger', we engineer a trip to the toilet; we stuff tampons up our sleeves if we have to, because the very worst thing we could do is let someone know that we have our period, even another woman.
We manage the pain with timely painkillers and work out if we can manage an exercise class without worry. Don't get me started on PE lessons at school and the showers. The opportunities for shame there are legion.
The worry lessens as we get older as we get more adept at managing periods and knowing what our bodies will do, or can handle, especially as our monthly cycles tend to become more regular. But those early days are fraught with unexpected or phantom start days, sudden rushes of 'flow' and not being near any facilities or painkillers for hours.
And then there are holidays. The all-important timing issue. Periods can be so erratic that you can plan your holiday dates around your cycle and still have to contend with the discomfort and inconvenience while you're away. To a certain extent you can be that girl on a yacht in a Bodyform advert, but the reality is she's spending the whole trip worrying about adequate toilet facilities.
And finally, sex. There is nothing more frustrating than being 'out of action'. Yes, there are some men who don't mind, but there are even fewer women who think the same way (although maybe I'm wrong). Yes, there are other things you can do for entertainment, but it does rather take the shine off.
It is rather astonishing that something that affects all biological women is so gloriously taboo. The lengths we all go to avoid saying the actual word or admit that it's happening are incredible. I'm still embarrassed buying tampons in Boots for god's sake.
So I'm pleased that periods are finally in the news. It's about time. At least this is blood spilt without harming anyone.
Much.