My Cycle Journey

My Cycle Journey

I got my period just ten days before my 11th birthday. I was so young that my mother hadn’t thought to have “the period talk” with me yet. She got her period at 17 and truly believed she had more time to prepare me.

She didn’t.

I was traumatized. I had no idea what was happening to my body. I was the first girl in my class to get her period, so I didn’t even have friends to compare notes with. I was sitting in the middle of a school lesson when something felt off. I asked to go to the bathroom and discovered I was bleeding.

I cleaned myself up as best I could and went straight to my teacher. She gently walked me to the main office so I could call my mom.

My mom arrived as quickly as she could with a kit she had put together herself—liners, maxi pads, and an extra pair of underwear. She explained that what I was experiencing was normal, that it would happen monthly, and that it meant I was now a woman.

At ten years old.

A woman?!

I was far too young to fully understand what that meant, but I pulled myself together and went back to class. That evening, when I got home, my father was waiting for me with a big bouquet of flowers. With tears in his eyes, he hugged me and said, “You’re a woman now.”

Embarrassed, I thanked him for the flowers and rushed upstairs to my bedroom.

That was my introduction to the menstrual cycle.

Throughout my teenage years, I dealt with many period symptoms—heavy flows that ruined bedsheets and underwear, severe cramps that sometimes made it hard to walk, and persistent hormonal acne. From what I understood, this was just part of being a woman. You figured out when your period was coming, sucked it up, and kept going—pain or no pain.

As I got older, the pain began to change. Instead of painful periods, I started experiencing intense abdominal pain about two weeks after the start of my cycle. At the time, I only knew about the 6–8 days of bleeding. No one had ever talked to me about ovulation.

While I was in college, this pain—what I now know was ovulation pain—became so severe that I couldn’t even take a deep breath without hurting. It got so bad that I ended up in the emergency room twice.

The first time, they asked if I had ever had a pelvic exam. I said no. I was 19 and had never been to an OBGYN. Because it was a teaching hospital, they asked if medical students could be present during my first-ever pelvic exam. Nervous and unsure how to say no to a doctor, I agreed. Minutes later, I felt like I was on display—like an experiment.

After the exam, the doctor told me he couldn’t find anything wrong and sent me home with Vicodin.

The second time I went to the hospital for the same pain, the result was the same: no answers, just a prescription for Percocet.

I didn’t take either medication. As a young Latina woman, I knew I didn’t want to become a statistic or mask my pain with strong medication without understanding the root cause. It was heartbreaking to realize that doctors were willing to prescribe powerful painkillers to a college student without doing more to help her understand why she was in pain.

Later that year, I finally found an OBGYN.

I explained my symptoms and told her that about two weeks after my period, I experienced extreme abdominal pain. She looked up at me and said, “Oh, that’s just ovulation pain. A low-dose birth control pill can help with that.”

I was shocked. I cried.

It was that simple. Years of pain—explained in one sentence.

She prescribed the lowest dose pill, and within a month, the ovulation pain was gone. No Vicodin. No Percocet.

After two years on the pill, I decided to stop taking it. As I got older, the ovulation pain became more manageable. My periods weren’t as intense, and my hormonal fluctuations weren’t as drastic as they had been in my youth. Over time, I began learning more about the entire menstrual cycle—not just menstruation, but ovulation and everything in between.

Now, in my early 30s, understanding my cycle isn’t just important to me—it’s important to my husband too.

That’s why I created the cycle tracker.

I keep it in our bathroom, and every so often my husband will peek in to see where I am in my cycle. He knows when to make me a steak, when to have the heating pad ready, and when to make sure my favorite dark chocolate is stocked—without me ever having to ask. He also knows when it’s time to set the mood, if you know what I mean.

We even used this tracker for family planning. With our very first cycle using it, we knew exactly when to try, when to test for pregnancy, and it worked. It showed me just how powerful full-cycle awareness can be.

The beauty of this tracker is its simplicity. It’s easy to use, easy to follow, and allows my husband to be involved. I’m no longer blindsided by my next period—not just because I suddenly cry at dog commercials.

This cycle tracker is for the young woman who wants to understand her body better, and for the woman who wants to plan for a family without having to explain every detail to her partner.

It’s about knowledge, partnership, and moving through every phase with grace.

Welcome to Graceful Phase!