Nadya Okamoto - Period Power: A Manifesto for the Menstrual Movement

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Childrens Publishing Division

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This publication contains the opinions and ideas of its author. It is intended to provide helpful and informative material on the subjects addressed in the publication. It is sold with the understanding that the author and publisher are not engaged in rendering medical, health, or any other kind of personal professional services in the book. The reader should consult his or her medical, health, or other competent professional before adopting any of the suggestions in this book or drawing inferences from it.

The author and publisher specifically disclaim all responsibility for any liability, loss, or risk, personal or otherwise, which is incurred as a consequence, directly or indirectly, of the use and application of any of the contents of this book.

Text copyright 2018 by Nadya Okamoto

Jacket illustration copyright 2018 by Rebecca Elfast

Interior illustrations by Rebecca Elfast

Interior images on courtesy of the US Patents Office.

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Book design by Krista Vossen

The illustrations for this book were rendered digitally.

CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress.

ISBN 978-1-5344-3021-1 (hc)

ISBN 978-1-5344-3020-4 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-5344-3022-8 (eBook)

To my most cherished menstruators

my mom, Sophia, and my two younger sisters,

Ameya and Issa

I decided to embark on this journey of writing my first book in the summer of 2016, right after I graduated high school. On the first day of that summer break, I moved to Los Angeles with a few suitcases, tears in my eyes from my first breakup, a mind set on figuring out what I wanted to focus my energy on, and excitement about moving to a city I had never been to, with a family I had never met before. I had no idea what the process for publishing a book was, so naturally I googled it!

After writing my book proposal, I pulled an all-nighter to learn what literary agents were and, using a combination of Google and Twitter, found the email addresses of close to one hundred literary agents I admired. A few weeks later, after many submission rejections and even more ignored emails, I received an email from my dream literary agent, Lindsay Edgecombe, who had recently worked on one of my favorite young adult feminist books. Over the past year, Lindsay and Kerry Sparks of Levine Greenberg Rostan Literary Agency have guided me through my first journey of publishing a book. They have been the friends I needed most when I questioned every draft I submitted because I often felt like my writing wasnt good enough. They have been the educators and advisers I have needed at every step to define words I had never heard before but which are used commonly in the publishing world. And they have been an inspiration for me to keep writing and have faith in this Menstrual Movement and what role I can play in it.

We took almost an entire year to refine my book proposal to match what we felt the world could use, and what felt the most authentic to me as a new writer. In the fall of 2017, my book was picked up by Simon & Schuster, my dream publishersomething I am still trying to wrap my head around. From the moment my editor, Liz Kossnar, and I hopped on the phone, I knew it was meant to be. We talked at similar speeds, she is a young up-and-coming editor in the industry, and our initial call felt effortlesswe talked mostly about the Menstrual Movement, and our shared passion for intersectional feminism, youth activism, and this potential book. After signing with Liz, I took a couple months to write this book, knowing how urgently I wanted a manifesto like this to exist in the real world, geared specifically to young people. Liz has exceeded all expectations in terms of supporting this book and bringing it to life, and I am forever grateful to her for taking a chance on and believing in an extremely inexperienced author like me and a rather daring book like this one.

Thank you so much to publisher Justin Chanda for stepping up and supporting Period Power as a non-menstruating ally of this movement. Thank you to designer Krista Vossen and managing editor Dorothy Gribbin for making this book beautiful and ready to be seen and read. And thank you to Lauren Hoffman, Chrissy Noh, Anna Jarzab, Lisa Moraleda, and Milena Giuncoour marketing and publicity teamfor helping to share this book and in turn, this movement, with the world.

Thank you to the PERIOD fammy cofounder, Vincent; trusted board members; valued chapter leaders and members; and our partners, sponsors, and volunteersfor being a part of this Menstrual Movement and making the success of a book like this possible. And, finally, thank you to my family and friends for the constant support and unconditional love, and for believing in me even when I didnt believe in myself.

It came on December 26, 2010.

I was pretty sure I was dying. For the whole week, I had been dealing with a stabbing pain in my stomach. And when you constantly feel like someone is poking you in the gut with all their strength, its hard to focus on anything else. My mom thought it was just a stomachache, but I knew she was wrong. I had just learned about appendicitis in school, and I was convinced I had it. I told her this, and in response she explained what hypochondriac means.

My sisters and I were on our way to visit our father in New York City from Portland, Oregon, where we lived with our mom. With only two hours before our flights departure time, my mom rushed around the house helping us finish our last-minute packing. She made sure we had all of our essentials for travel: toiletries, enough pairs of underwear, and the appropriate number of Pillow Pets (the animal pillows that my sisters and I were obsessed with at the time). Suitcases finally packed, Pillow Pets in hand, we started to bundle up and head out the door.

But before we left, there was one thing I had forgotten about in all the rush: I needed to pee.

I scurried to the bathroom, pulled down my pants, and sat down. I shivered out a sigh and felt the familiar shudder of warmth leaving my body. For a second I felt relieved... but then I looked down.

Brownish blood covered my inner thighs and underwear.

Blood. From inside me.

I was bleeding out . I started to panic.

Without wasting a second to think about what was happening, I jumped out of my pants, tore off my underwear, and ran into the living room. Through tears I started to apologize for my impending death. I hugged my sisters and told them how much I loved them and that I wished I didnt have to leave the family so soon. But all they seemed to focus on was avoiding the gory underwear, still in my hand.

To my total shock, my loving mother broke into a know-it-all sort of smile. I stood rooted in my living room as she placed her hands on my shoulders and lit up with excitement. My twelve years of life were nearly over, and my mom found it funny ?! Wasnt the blood proof enough that I was DYING?