As I mentioned in my last post, I spent a long time without getting a period. Occasionally my doctor prescribed me some progestin to initiate withdrawal bleeding (it’s believed that build up of menstrual tissue without occasional bleeding increases risk of endometrial cancer), but by and large, I was period-free. This was pretty scary, though also kind of convenient. I didn’t have to worry about getting caught without menstrual products. I didn’t have to deal with monthly cramps or cravings. I usually become an emotional mess in the week before my period, and that didn’t really happen. So, y’know, that was nice.
A big benefit, at least at first, was that I could have sex anytime.
Mr. Shoshie and I are both religiously observant Jews. For those curious, we belong to a Conservative synagogue, but tend to have stricter practices than most within the Conservative movement. Definitely more than most Jews in the US. We don’t affiliate with an Orthodox synagogue for several reasons, status of women probably being the most important. The Jewish Conservative movement is into egalitarian Judaism, where women have equal status to men, and, most importantly, have equal stake in the mitzvot, the commandments that make up Jewish law.
One of these mitzvot involves menstruation.
The Torah states that men should not sleep with menstruating women. It instructs women to count seven days, then immerse in a ritual bath made from living waters, called a mikvah. This law has been expanded such that most people who still follow it abstain from sex for a week beyond the menstrual cycle, usually for 10-12 days, but sometimes more. It’s also been expanded to encompass all touch, not just sex. So you can see why not menstruating would have been awfully convenient.
I have to say, it sucked.
So, on the one hand, I feel like I, as a good feminist woman, should be totally appalled at this set of laws. There’s clearly nothing wrong with menstruation! It’s a healthy part of having a post-puberty, pre-menopausal uterus. I’m not particularly squicked out by menstrual blood, especially since switching to a menstrual cup about five years ago. Furthermore, I can see the terrible ways in which patriarchy has taken a fairly equal practice (men also had to wait for a time period and immerse in the bath after ejaculation) and twisted it to make menstruating women seem disgusting and abhorrent. I can see the ways that it can and is used to take agency from women about matters that concern the most private parts of their own bodies. And that *is* disgusting.
But, on the other hand, I love the mikvah.
I love everything about it. I love the anticipation of mikvah night. I love that it’s special time for me and Mr. Shoshie. I love that it’s supposed to be a bit of a secret. I love the preparation involved: cutting my nails, scrubbing my skin, washing my hair, flossing, brushing. I love that my focus is supposed to be solely on my body and preparing it for immersion. If something needs to be done around the house, it takes its place behind my preparations. I love chatting with the mikvah ladies, who are friendly and, I think, somewhat bemused by the young woman who shows up with blue hair and wearing pants. But always with a hat or a headscarf. I love the final checks and stepping, naked, into the warm water. I love the totally unrushed, private prayer. Much of Jewish prayer is communal, and I find that when it’s not, it tends to be said in haste. There’s always somewhere to be and the prayer is taking up precious time. But not at the mikvah. I love stepping out and into a towel, carefully walking back to the changing room, and then the pace speeds up, then I’m rushing, throwing my clothes back on, because as soon as I get home, Mr. Shoshie and I can kiss and embrace for the first time in a week.
The sex is pretty much always fantastic.
As much as I can see the problems in maintaining this practice, it saddens me to see it fading. Very few gender egalitarian Jews follow it, and I can totally understand why. But I wonder, how can it be reclaimed? Can it be? Or is a practice that’s had so much time to be manipulated by people invested in patriarchy that it’s completely futile? Am I just acquiescing to patriarchy by maintaining it? Possibly. But I can’t imagine giving it up. It feels too right.
There’s even more that has to be dealt with in order to reduce the oppressive potential of the mikvah. There are women without uteruses. There are men who menstruate. There are women who deal with infertility who suffer such pain with each visit to the mikvah, because it comes to symbolize another failed month. How can these scenarios be dealt with in a respectful and sensitive way? Many mikva’ot are run by very conservative (little c) groups who are not friendly to transgender individuals or women in lesbian relationships or even women who wear pants. I’m pretty lucky, with my community, but I know others who aren’t.
So my question to you all is how we deal with meaningful but loaded practices. Do we throw them out and make new ones? What do we lose when we do that? Can those practices be remolded in our image? Is it worth the effort? In this instance, I think so, though I know there are others who disagree with me. Are there any practices that take on this role in your lives? How do you deal with them?
I don’t think there are easy answers here, but maybe if we keep asking the questions, we’ll start moving in the right direction, whatever that direction may be.