Air in My Wings


Butterfly and wings
Butterfly and my wings


My stains are no longer a dirty secret.

I don’t need to hide them

In a black plastic bag,

Wrapped in an old newspaper.

No longer destined to spend eternity

Neither Breathing nor dying.

No, Not anymore.

Now my wings are free.

Trees call out to me in the morning light,

And I fly to them with glee,

Riding on the Air between my wings.


This is how I felt when I first started using cloth pads. This was last year in June. Since then, I haven’t sent a single sanitary napkin to its fate of rotting for eternity in a landfill.


I have now switched to using Menstrual cups. The whole journey has been like discovering a hidden level in the game of life.


I am wearing it right now as I write it. The previous sentence is an afterthought. Because I forgot I was wearing one till I started writing this entry.


It is there, but not there, just like air.


If you wish to learn to unlock the magic of this air. Come join me & a diverse community of women at NatureHealers.Life