Menstrual leave isn't radical, it's overdue – and the only reason we're still debating it is because the people in power don't bleed.

If men's balls bled once a month, there'd be no debate*. Menstrual leave would already be standard. No questions asked. But because it's not them bleeding, we're left to suffer in silence.

And when someone dares to bring it up, suddenly it's "unfair" or "discrimination". Please. You don't menstruate? Congrats. You've dodged a monthly bloodbath. Maybe sit this one out.

Periods aren't cute. They're not empowering. They're painful, messy, and exhausting. When I got mine as a teenager, I genuinely thought my life was over. I remember thinking: How the hell am I supposed to live like this?

Five days of bleeding, cramping, feeling like my uterus is trying to escape my body. Did you know there are more than 150 physical and behavioural symptoms associated with premenstrual syndrome and menstruation itself? I got used to it, sure – but that doesn't mean it stopped hurting.

By 16, I was on hormonal contraception just to function. It helped a little, but the side effects weren't exactly a joyride either. And why was I the one expected to pump my body full of hormones just to make it through the month? Probably the same reason there's still no pill on the market for men.

Because if the roles were reversed, there would be. But they're not. Because men still make the rules.

And surprise – they don't want to mess with their own hormones. Beyond the physical pain, there's the brain fog. I forget things. I'm slower. I can't focus properly. But I still show up to work. I still smile. I still pretend everything's fine while silently managing the chaos inside my body.

And no, popping painkillers doesn't always work and believe me I'd love for them to work. Sometimes they just don't.

So let me ask again: why don't we have menstrual leave? It doesn't mean we'd all stay home five days a month. Most of us wouldn't even take the time unless we really needed it. But for those days when your body is screaming at you, when you're barely holding it together, this leave could mean everything.

One day to rest, reset, and recover. Because the patriarchal system sure as hell isn't doing it for us.

"But why not just take a sick day?" Because I'm not sick. Periods aren't an illness. They're not contagious. They're a normal biological function that just happens to make life miserable for a few days every month.

I'm not dying. But I am suffering. And that difference matters.

Here's the truth: if men had periods, this wouldn't even be a debate. Menstrual leave would be normalised, not politicised.

Some countries already have menstrual leave – it's neither a radical idea nor a new one.

Japan, for instance, has included it in labour law since 1947. And in Europe, Spain became the first nation to introduce three to five days of paid menstrual leave per month in 2023. Portugal recently introduced paid menstrual leave specifically for endometriosis patients, and in Luxembourg, similar calls for workplace protections are gaining momentum.

While it's a limited step that excludes many who suffer, it's still a start and the fact that we're still fighting for it tells you everything you need to know.

And no, it's not 'discrimination against men' as some may claim. It's the bare minimum. Give people the option to rest when their body is going through hell. Not only is it humane, it's smart. Because no one does their best work when they're curled up at their desk trying not to cry.

Give us that one day. Let us breathe. Let us not bleed through our clothes in a meeting or sit on public transport with no bathroom in sight.

Let us not be forced to smile through the pain just to keep you comfortable. Because the truth is brutal and simple: if men had to go through this, menstrual leave would already be law.

And until we get real recognition for what our bodies endure every single month, please don't talk to me about equality.

*Note: This piece uses gendered language to critique systemic inequality, but its message is intended to include all people who menstruate – including trans men, non-binary individuals, and anyone whose experience is often erased from the conversation. When referring to "men" or "those in power", the critique is aimed at the structures that prioritise male-centric norms, not at individuals based on identity.