When Bella Hadid declared in a recent British Vogue interview that “working on your period should be illegal,” one might have expected a furore. Instead, there was next to nothing — no social media firestorm, no spate of opinion pieces. Just silence. Which, ironically, mirrors how society continues to treat menstrual health: with denial, dismissal, and an ingrained sense that women should simply get on with it.
For those of us who have gritted our teeth through excruciating cramps during 12-hour shifts, or pushed through migraine-induced nausea under fluorescent lights, Hadid’s words weren’t sensational. They were a lifeline of validation.
In the same breath, the supermodel suggested we should ban working not just during our period, but the week before as well. Some rolled their eyes at the perceived drama. But many understood. Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD), endometriosis, and a raft of other gynaecological conditions routinely wreak havoc on lives — often invisibly.
Pop star Miley Cyrus recently spoke of performing a New Year’s Eve special while suffering from a ruptured ovarian cyst. The pain was so intense, she questioned whether she could continue in the music industry. Her story isn’t rare. It’s just rarely told.
I myself have endured over a decade of endometriosis. I’ve fainted in toilet cubicles, been hospitalised for blood loss, missed social events and professional milestones. Yet I’ve smiled through red carpet interviews and led panels with cramps so severe I could barely speak. That’s not heroism — it’s the consequence of a culture that dismisses menstrual pain as something to be quietly endured.
In the UK alone, 1.5 million people live with endometriosis. One in five suffer from polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS). A 2023 BMJ Open study revealed that over a quarter of British women aged 18–55 live with a chronic gynaecological condition. These are not rare cases — they are part of daily life for millions.
And yet, society continues to treat these conditions as fringe or exaggerated. According to Superdrug, over a third of Gen Z women would consider leaving a job due to poor menstrual health support. Only 31% feel comfortable discussing their symptoms with an employer. Nearly half power through debilitating pain out of fear of being perceived as unprofessional.
It begins in adolescence. Research from the University of Bristol found that over a third of girls experience heavy periods that affect their education. Missed school days, poor academic performance — the knock-on effects can be profound.
Despite this, when calls are made for menstrual leave or even modest accommodations, the same tired objections appear: people will abuse it, productivity will fall. But the data tells a different story. Presenteeism — when employees show up to work but are not fully functioning — already costs the UK economy more than absenteeism.
A 2024 NHS Confederation report found that women missing work due to gynaecological conditions like endometriosis and fibroids cost the UK economy £11 billion annually. Yet investing just £1 more per woman in related NHS services could yield a £319 million return. In other words, supporting menstrual health isn’t just the right thing to do — it’s economically sound.
The problem isn’t lack of data. It’s the lack of cultural permission to speak, rest, and seek support without shame. When men’s health issues are discussed, they are rightly treated with seriousness and compassion. Why isn’t menstrual health treated the same?
Spain has introduced menstrual leave — but uptake remains low, thanks to poor policy awareness and restrictive eligibility. The UK, meanwhile, is still in the shadow of “medical misogyny,” as the Women and Equalities Committee noted in a 2023 report.
Bella Hadid’s comments may have been brushed aside by some. But for millions of people silently enduring month after month, her frustration rang true.
So yes, Bella. You’re absolutely right. We don’t want to be heroes. We want to be heard. And finally, we want to bleed with dignity.