Bear it, that is what it means to be a woman...

"I was ten years old. I had noticed something was weird earlier in the day but I knew from commercials that one's menstrual period was a blue liquid that you poured like laundry detergent onto maxi pads to test their absorbency. This wasn't blue so...I ignored it for a few hours.

When we got home I pulled my mom aside to ask if it was weird I was bleeding in my underpants. She was very sympathetic but also a little baffled. Her eyes said "Dummy didn't you read 'How Shall I Tell My Daughter ". I HAD read it but nowhere in the pamphlet did anyone say that your period was NOT a blue liquid.

At that moment two things became clear to me I was now technically a woman and I would never be a doctor."

In my profession I have learned that women can bear more pain than men.

My pain? This was the pain of an Indian girl. These girls were mostly from Delhi and a few from Bangalore and Mumbai. Normally, the story of an Indian girl’s pain comes from the victims, survivors, or the feminists. A regular girl's suffering in her day-to-day life doesn’t ever feature in the national feminist narrative. They have been conditioned to accept it as part of living, as an everyday struggle. A part of the culture that wants to crush their dreams. Their aspirations. Their confidence.

I have periods now, like normal girls; I too am among the knowing, I too can sit out volleyball games and go to the nurse's for aspirin and waddle along the halls with a pad like a flattened rabbit tail wadded between my legs, sopping with liver-colored blood.

To be a woman is hard. In any, anywhere. And in all parts of the world, it’s hard.

All the worst things that happened to other women because they were women could happen to you because you were a woman. Even if you weren’t killed, something in you was, your sense of freedom, equality, confidence.

I've hard conversation about being a woman and the things that come with it, and I couldn't believe it, trust me I couldn't have survived.

You can’t do this or that because you’re a girl. Or, You have to do this because you’re a girl. I asked Why? I’m a human being first.

"None of them was willing to be a girl," he said. "You can see why not."
"I know, right? I don't blame them," she said with a hard edge to her voice. "Being a girl is the pits, trust me."

Amid an extended, international discussion of and female confession, it has occurred to me that sometimes it can be difficult for women to understand one another’s pain. We are often told that experiences of oppression are actually the result of the supposedly overwrought emotional set point of womanhood, a pressure that compels us to keep our stories to ourselves — or, in the worst of cases, to look upon each other’s stories with excessive scrutiny, behavior prescribed by the poison of internalized misogyny.

... as an adolescent ... from the world around me, I learned that must I hide all signs that I menstruated or face deep, crushing shame.

Being born a woman is my awful tragedy. From the moment I was conceived I was doomed to sprout breasts and ovaries rather than penis and scrotum; to have my whole circle of action, thought and feeling rigidly circumscribed by my inescapable feminity. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars — to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording — all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night...

Girls had a very difficult life, especially those who chose to go to school. I recall some of her schoolmates dropping out just because the boys ordered them to do so. In my twilight years, I expressed disappointment that female liberation veterans were never accorded the same recognition as their male counterparts.