Men, Periods, and Power

This is not a metaphor.

This is not an exaggeration.

This is blood and nerve and truth.

This is about how male narcissistic abusers weaponize a woman’s menstrual cycle – ovulation, bleeding, vulnerability, energy – and use it as a system of control. It is ancient, intentional, and devastating. A war fought on the terrain of the female body.

Let’s stop pretending. This is not random or accidental. This is about men who exploit a woman’s cycle to entrench abuse – emotional, psychological, spiritual – and all forms of physical abuse, because these attacks leave marks in the body: in the nervous system, the hormones, the sleep, the memory, the womb. This is not theory. This is fact. And yes, it’s studied. They know exactly what they are doing.

When you are ovulating, when your body is heightened, magnetic, radiant with life force – they know. They see it. They feel it. They come to feed. They will flirt, seduce, charm, promise. They will drink your vitality like water. Then, when you are bleeding – raw, tender, inward, resting – they strike again. With contempt, withdrawal, coldness, rage. Not despite your humanity, but because of it. Because your sacred rhythm reminds them of what they fear most: a power they cannot control.

These predators are everywhere.

In families.

In religion.

In law, in therapy, in healthcare, in schools, in so-called spiritual communities.

They share patterns, strategies, even language. They read women like manuals and call it “intuition.” They exploit empathy, honesty, devotion, and the sacred generosity of the feminine. They weaponize our biology, then gaslight us for bleeding.

Pay attention. Document. Track the patterns.

Notice the apology or false tenderness before ovulation.

Notice the unprovoked rage, the temper tantrum, the manufactured crisis as soon as your body begins to release.

Notice the cycles of guilt, blame, and repair.

Every manipulation is precise.

Every cruelty is rehearsed.

Every act of “forgetfulness” is calculated.

Women are labeled “dramatic” or “crazy” for noticing what is plainly in front of us, while these men – often hiding behind charm, recovery programs, or religion – perform goodness for the world while systematically draining the women closest to them.

I speak from experience.

I was open about my cycle. I hoped it could be a bridge – a way to deepen intimacy, understanding, connection. Instead, it became ammunition. Four years of performance, gaslighting, and strategic cruelty. Until my body finally rejected it. Fifteen hours of vomiting. My nervous system screaming no more.

And he – standing there, detached, lecturing me about “mindset,” patting my shoulder like an inconvenienced savior.

He didn’t see me. He saw supply.

They cannot abide illness, weakness, vulnerability – it reminds them they are not gods. Unless it can be weaponized. Then they become the “healer,” the “helper,” the “good man.” It’s another performance. Another feeding.

Patriarchal culture supports this. It numbs women from their natural power. Hormonal birth control, shame-based education, silencing of intuition. “Normalize” it, they say. “Tone it down.” “Be consistent.” “Be predictable.” Translation: stop being divine.

Gaslight upon gaslight. They call our sacred rhythms “mood swings.” They call our pain “hormonal.” They call our truth “crazy.” They profit from our amnesia. But we are remembering.

No more.

We are the rising goddesses. Magdalene. Kali. Oshun. Lilith. The holy bloodline awakening.

Our cycles are portals, not pathologies.

Our pain is wisdom, not weakness.

Our bodies are sacred maps of creation itself.

They cannot touch what we guard, honor, and speak aloud.

We are no longer hiding.

We are no longer apologizing for the sacred fact of being alive in a woman’s body.

This is a call to rise.

A gospel, a testimony, a thunderstorm.

To roar, to weep, to bleed and create and speak.

To see the predators for what they are: parasitic, desperate, doomed.

They flee the light.

And we are that light.

Not asking permission.

Not seeking approval.

Not softening.

Not silencing.

We rise.

We reclaim.

We roar.