We all faceplant sometimes...

My first substack email comes from a vulnerable place, I'm just dragging myself up from one of those moments when life rips the rug out from under your feet and leaves you faceplanted on the floor...

I haven’t spoken to you beautiful lot on my email list for months. Sorry about that. I want to build a rich community and I won’t do that by not reaching out. But here I am, giving Substack a whirl. I think it might be a good way of keeping in touch with you all and sharing some thoughts and tips with you. We’ll see how it goes…

So why the recent silence? As has been the case for so many recently, a lot has been going on... You may be aware that I wrote a book last year – Periods aren’t meant to Bloody Hurt. It was such a huge achievement, not just because I wrote it all down but also because of the circumstances around writing it and getting it out into the world. 

Writing a book to a deadline is a stressful and all-encompassing exercise and although I went in with my eyes open to the task that lay before me, I was still caught with my pants down. It took me to a dark place, I'll be honest. The sense of excitement and pride I wanted to feel when my book was launched was sullied by some vital cogs in the wheel that just weren't turning. I won't go into detail, but I will say that instead of celebrating, I was firefighting things that were out of my control and when my book came into the world it felt, well, tepid. 

When you think you are going in one direction, and then life has other ideas and whips the rug out from under your feet, that faceplant to the ground fucking hurts. The book is there for everyone to read, but it has been stifled and it isn't reaching the people who need to read it. And that hurts.

Why am I telling you this? Because I want to show you that I am a human with human feelings and that sometimes the best you can do for yourself is take yourself off to a place where you can grieve and rest, give yourself time and space to re-assess, formulate a plan and then ask others to help you bring it into fruition. That is where I have been: resting, grieving and planning. Perhaps you, too, have been doing much the same, dealing with your own collossal faceplant and re-rooting yourself ready for the turning point we’re reaching now with the start of spring.

My own re-rooting has reminded me that this book and the work I do is a lifeline for so many women, women who aren't getting the help they need elsewhere, and it showed me that this book needs to be in every school, every library, university, and home. I can’t make that happen on my own, but I can do the things that I can do and trust the universe to take care of the rest. I can reach out to schools, libraries and universities. I can keep writing here and sharing vital information with old friends and new followers alike. I can grab the metaphoric megaphone and do all the shouting myself. I can pick myself up and start re-building the rich community that I always imagine, and I can put my faith in that community to help. 

This email is my first small step. It hasn't been as hard as I thought, to take that one step. And really, that's all we need to do, to occasionally allow ourselves a faceplant, and then rise up and take one tiny step after another. Whether you are currently faceplanted firmly on your kitchen floor, taking those first tentative steps into spring, or striding ahead confidently, please know that I am right behind you, cheering you on.

So much love to you

Gemma xx

ps. I’m just getting to grips with this substack thing - it seems pretty good, so if it works out I’ll keep at it. Obvs you can unsubscribe, but I hope you’ll stick with me to learn more about all things period-related and for a jolly good rant about the patriachy and health services from time to time!