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Parineeti Chopra responds to a male reporter who claims to know nothing about periods (menstrual cycle). [X]


I started my period when I was 10 years old. But we didn’t tell my grandma for three years because she subscribed to the “old traditions”, where a woman on her period could not enter the house, not even to bathe. Where she had to sit outside in front of the house (where the whole village could be witness to her shame and isolation) for the entire duration.

My friend started her period unexpectedly while we were at our local temple (in America) for dance class. Asking around if any of the parents had pads (all of them apologized and acted like adults about it), I thought surely the front office has a first aid kit. Don’t they have pads? When we asked, not only did they not have any, when one of the women gave one from her purse, the head secretary told us “There are men who need to use the first-aid kit, ya? So we don’t keep period things there.” Not even ibuprofen (which has so many more uses than period pain).

There are girls in India and Nepal (and other places, but I just read an in-depth piece about the situations in Nepal) who have to go to the “period hut” when their period comes and not leave until its over. They can’t wash and dry their cloth pads in the daylight, so they do it at night when the pads won’t dry properly before their next use, making them vulnerable to infection.

It is incredibly important, especially in India, to break the taboo surrounding periods. Break the secrecy around an event that happens to almost every woman, every month for literally half of her lifetime. Break the hiding, break the cover-up, break the SHAME.

Just break EVERYTHING. So little girls can go to school every day of every month without feeling ashamed. So women can work every day of every month to provide for their families without being glared at. So single fathers can confidently take care of their daughters’ health. So that women can talk about how terrible their period is or isn’t and give each other advice on how to deal with it without looking around to make sure men aren’t listening.
So that Whisper doesn’t have to be called Whisper, it can be called SHOUT. It can be called PROUD. So that we don’t NEED to fucking WHISPER about our bodies and our health.

(Source: baawri)


So, my friends, I am very much in need of some money, as my former job required me to be a student (and I have since graduated), my car has died its final death, and I will most likely be needing to move very soon. As a result…

I am doing commissions!

Mini-paintings like those in the bottom row are $5 (and can be mailed to you!), uncolored lineart is $15, and colored images are $30, with it being $7 extra for each additional character and $10 extra for really intense backgrounds. I know, I’m sorry, I really hate backgrounds, I am the worst.

If you are interested, you can shoot me an ask or email me at (which incidentally will also be the paypal address we’ll use, yaaay).

(Okay, I’m going to sit down and do some art that ISN’T Xena and Gabrielle for the next time I do one of these posts, geez, I promise I am not a one trick pony)

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