Bleeding Between the Lines

From Leaks to Liberation: My Journey with Periods & Mental Health

Picture this: It’s a warm, stuffy evening in a drama class in central London, and I’m wearing my favourite—and only—pair of bright yellow trousers. They look cool, have deep pockets, and let me move freely - essential when you're rolling around on the floor acting.

While the class is in full swing and everyone is acting their socks off (myself included), something starts to feel… off. Unbeknownst to me, my beautiful yellow trousers are steadily turning a deep shade of red. By the time I realised, class was over and I was perched on a toilet seat, turning an even deeper shade of red myself—part embarrassment, part rage.

“My fucking menstrual cup has slipped. Again.”

So I did what any menstruating person with no supplies would do: stuffed some tissue up my vag, wrapped a jacket around my waist, and wobbled out into the light.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t a one-off. Since I was 11, my period has been the lead character in my life’s story—marked by heavy bleeding, vomiting, intense mood swings, and pain that left me curled up on the bathroom floor. I reached out to family, friends, and medical professionals over the years, only to be met with the same response:

“You’ll just have to live with it.”

I tried every DIY remedy you can imagine: red wine, hot water bottles, cider vinegar (yes, really). Painkillers were always offered, of course, but I had a strong aversion to them. Growing up with parents who were heavily reliant on pharmaceuticals—and deeply unwell because of it—left me with a gut instinct to avoid anything that dulled my body’s signals.

Then came 2020. A lot went wrong that year—but it also gave people time to act, to reflect. Just as the world started waking up (we remember you, George Floyd <3), I began waking up to my own wellbeing. With my acting work on pause and my social life disrupted, I turned inward and got serious about my mental health.

I started exploring ways to regulate my hormones—raising the feel-good ones and lowering the 'feel-bad' ones, like cortisol. I was already doing the usual things: exercising, meditating, deep breathing. But one surprising factor kept showing up in my research: food.

I’d always known food was linked to health, but I’d never made the connection between what I was eating and my hormones or mood. My curiosity kicked in hard. I began planning meals with intention—three main meals a day, packed with fruit, vegetables, protein, whole grains, and yes, the occasional “superfood.” I wasn’t perfect, but even with a few treats here and there, something major shifted.

One day it hit me: I hadn’t felt depressed in months.

The kind of depression that leaves you in bed with dark thoughts had been such a constant that it had become... normal. I’d assumed it was all rooted in my past—my traumatic upbringing, the near-daily rejection of being an actor, and a lack of support from the very people who caused the trauma. So I thought: Who wouldn’t be depressed, right?

I’m not a doctor or a nutritionist. But after years of therapy, I can say this with full honesty: this is the first time in my life that depression and my period have stopped defining me. When I do experience low moods around my cycle, they come and go. If I feel sad, I cry. If I feel angry, I let it out. But the feelings don’t linger and fester like they used to. I move on.

Since then, I’ve shifted toward a mostly plant-based, alkaline diet (you can read more about that [here]), and my mental health has only improved. I haven’t had a severe depressive episode since starting this journey in 2021.

Oh—and in case you were wondering—no more menstrual cup disasters! My new Holy Grail is short, chunky, and made for people with a lower cervix (which, yes, is a thing I just recently learned about). For someone who’s always had a heavy flow, discovering menstrual cups has been nothing short of vaginal emancipation.

Believe it or not, I now enjoy my period. It’s become a sacred pause—a time when my body forces me to slow down, look inward, and honour my cycle. It’s when I say “no” unapologetically:

No to extra work.

No to going out.

No to guilt.

This time is for me.

What was once a painful, humiliating experience has transformed into something like a monthly spiritual rebirth. I come out of it with more clarity, groundedness, and a renewed sense of purpose.

Maisie Hill, author of Period Power, describes the menstrual cycle in seasons—and for the first time in my life, I actually feel that. When you nurture your body and honour your cycle, it’s like witnessing the first signs of spring inside yourself. That same feeling—the air warming, the leaves unfurling—can happen in your body, every month.

This is the power of nature.This is the power of our bodies. We can both give and destroy life.

If that’s not god-like, I don’t know what is.