The Red Burden:

Periods, Productivity and the Invisible Labour Women Carry

Recently, I attended an AGM where a group of women found themselves discussing something we rarely, if ever, talk about openly in professional spaces: periods.

Not in a dramatic way. Not in a “poor us” way. Just honestly.

We spoke about the mental load of menstruation: tracking cycles, carrying supplies, worrying about leaking through clothing, managing cramps, fatigue, mood shifts, bloating, discomfort, and the constant awareness of our bodies while still being expected to show up professionally, emotionally regulated, and productive.

At one point, one of the women said something incredibly simple that has stayed with me ever since: “Men don’t need to worry about these things.”

And honestly? That sentence landed because it’s true.

Men do not have to think about whether their period might start unexpectedly during a meeting. They don’t need to carry spare underwear in their bags “just in case.” They don’t have to mentally calculate whether white pants are a risk this week. They don’t have to navigate hormonal fluctuations while trying to lead teams, meet deadlines, parent children, maintain relationships, and function in workplaces that still largely operate around linear productivity.

Women do.

And many of us have become so used to carrying this invisible burden that we no longer even recognise it as labour.

The Invisible Labour of Menstruation

The cost of menstruation is not only financial, although that burden is real too. Sanitary products, pain medication, replacement clothing, period underwear, heating pads, supplements… it adds up.

But the deeper burden is often invisible. It’s the planning, the masking, the pushing through, the emotional regulation and pretending you’re fine when you’re cramping, exhausted, overstimulated, or simply depleted. It’s quietly managing your body while trying not to inconvenience anyone else.

And perhaps what exhausts women most is not menstruation itself, but the expectation that we should carry it silently. As though acknowledging our biology somehow makes us weak, dramatic, emotional, or incapable.

Women Are Cyclical, But the World Is Linear

Modern workplaces were largely built around consistency, predictability, and linear productivity.

But female biology is cyclical. Energy, hormones and capacity all fluctuate.

And yet women have spent generations learning how to override their bodies in order to fit systems that were never designed with cyclical biology in mind.

This is not about women being less capable than men. It’s not about asking women to do less. And it’s certainly not about using menstruation as an excuse to avoid accountability or responsibility.

It’s about acknowledging reality. Because pretending biology doesn’t exist has not made women healthier. It has simply made many women quieter, more ashamed, and more exhausted.

Perhaps the question isn’t whether women are capable of succeeding within these systems. We have proven that we are. Perhaps the question is whether the systems themselves could evolve.

What if flexibility was seen as a strength rather than a weakness?

What if women didn’t have to leave their biology at the door to be taken seriously?

When Passion Becomes “Hormones”

Years ago, while working in the corporate world, I found myself standing up quite firmly for something I believed in. To this day, I can’t remember what the issue was about. What I do remember is what happened afterwards.

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m generally a fairly laid-back, easy-going person. But if one of my core values is crossed, a different side of me emerges. I become fiercely protective of what I believe is right. Apparently, my boss, a man, had never seen that side of me before.

Concerned by my reaction, he asked the HR manager, a woman, to speak with me. Instead of asking me directly what my concerns were, she asked whether I might be pregnant. I wasn’t. And while I understand the question was probably asked with good intentions, it only added fuel to the fire.

What I needed wasn’t an assumption. I needed a conversation. Looking back now, I wish my boss had simply sat down with me and asked, “Help me understand your concerns.”

I would have welcomed that conversation.

We may not have agreed on everything, but I suspect we would have reached a far better outcome. Instead, a valuable opportunity for understanding was lost. And I must admit that I lost some respect for both my boss and the HR manager that day. In hindsight, that saddens me because it wasn’t necessary.

The experience taught me something important: acknowledging women’s biology should never come at the expense of taking women’s perspectives seriously.

Sometimes a woman is hormonal. Sometimes she’s exhausted. Sometimes she’s overwhelmed. And sometimes she’s simply passionate about something that matters deeply to her.

The most respectful response isn’t to assume. It’s to ask. To have a conversation.

The Luteal Phase Isn’t the Problem

Recently, a client shared something with me that I suspect many women will relate to.

“I know I’m a bitch in my luteal phase,” she said. But beneath that statement wasn’t malice. It was exhaustion, overstimulation, emotional load, pressure, and the fatigue of holding everything together.

And perhaps this is where we need a more compassionate conversation around women’s health. Because often, the luteal phase doesn’t create the problem. It reveals the problem. It reveals the stress we’ve been suppressing. The boundaries we’ve ignored. The resentment we’ve swallowed. The nervous system dysregulation we’ve normalised. The exhaustion we’ve been pushing through all month long.

Many women are not “too emotional.” They are simply operating beyond capacity.

For those unfamiliar with the menstrual cycle, women move through different phases each month, each influenced by shifting hormones. Books such as Period Power by Maisie Hill have helped bring greater awareness to how these phases can influence energy, focus, mood, creativity, confidence, and our need for rest.

The goal is not to become controlled by our cycle. The goal is to become aware of it because awareness creates choice and choice creates compassion.

What If the Load Could Be Lightened?

What if women didn’t have to prove their strength by ignoring their bodies?

What if conversations around periods became normalised instead of whispered?

What if a woman could tell her male boss, “I’m struggling with cramps today,” without shame?

What if workplaces recognised that supporting women doesn’t mean lowering standards?

Because supporting women does not mean lowering expectations. It means recognising that sustainable performance requires sustainable systems.

Women will have weeks where they feel energised, creative, productive, and powerful.

They will also have weeks where their bodies ask for more rest, more softness, and more support.

Perhaps the goal isn’t to force women to function like machines every single day of the month. Perhaps the goal is to create environments where women can function like human beings.

For women, this starts with understanding ourselves better. Learning our cycles. Tracking patterns. Honouring our bodies rather than fighting them. Extending ourselves the same compassion we so freely offer others.

For workplaces, it starts with creating psychologically safe environments where conversations about women’s health are not treated as awkward, embarrassing, or inconvenient. Because when we create systems that support women, we don’t just benefit women, we create healthier workplaces for everyone.

The Red Burden

The burden of menstruation is not simply about bleeding. It is about the invisible emotional, mental, physical, and social labour women carry while still trying to be everything to everyone. And maybe that’s why so many women are quietly saying the same thing beneath the surface:

“I’m so tired.”

Not because they are weak. Not because they are incapable. But because they have spent years carrying invisible things without permission to put them down.

Maybe it’s time we changed that. Maybe it’s time we stopped asking women to carry the red burden alone.