DOI: 10.1177/0971521518808096 View full text |Buy / Rent full text

Abstract: For some reason, I always hated pads. To remain sticky and sweaty between my legs for a week every month was awful. Not to mention, the burning humiliation of the occasional red stain behind my grey school tunic. I discovered a small box of tampons in my mother's drawer a couple of years after starting my period, and voraciously read each word of the how-to manual inside it. When my mother found me stealing tampons, she gave me a funny look, but soon let me buy a box for myself. It felt like freedom, despite t… Show more

Help me understand this report

This publication either has no citations yet, or we are still processing them

Set email alert for when this publication receives citations?

See others like this or search for similar articles