Four Phases, Four Women — And They’re All Me

Periods — A Personal Take

I first want to thank the researchers and doctors who figured out that there are four distinct phases in a menstrual cycle. Because I cannot even begin to imagine what women went through before this knowledge existed — living through something this powerful in their bodies and minds, with absolutely no explanation for any of it.

And people around them just said: women are hard to understand.

No one knew why. Not even the women themselves.

That line sat with me for a long time. Because I have been there. I have looked at myself in the middle of a perfectly ordinary day and thought — is this a mood swing, or is this just who I am? Some days are so dominated by whatever phase I am in that I do not even recognise myself. I feel like a completely different person. And for the longest time, I thought something was wrong with me.

Turns out, everything is exactly as it should be.

Here is what I have come to understand about each phase — told the way I wish someone had told me.

Think of your body as a home. And inside that home, there are members — your eggs — living quietly, growing at their own pace. Every single month, one of them goes through an entire life journey. A rise. A peak. A hope. A goodbye.

And every month, you feel all of it.

Phase 1: The Follicular Phase — The One Who Is Rising

This is the phase right after your period ends, and something quietly shifts.

One member of the household starts growing — faster than the others. Her career is taking off. She is getting more confident, more visible, more powerful within the home. Estrogen rises in your body to support her, and as she grows, something in you grows too.

This is the waking up stage. And when I say waking up, I mean fully awake.

That boss you have been avoiding in the hallway? In the follicular phase, you will walk straight up to him and start a conversation like he is an old friend. Plans you have been putting off suddenly feel doable. Fears that used to feel like walls now feel like dust you could blow away and keep walking.

I like to think of this as your biological green light. If you have been waiting for the right moment — to send that email, crack that interview, propose to someone you love, chase something that scares you a little — this is the phase your body is quietly cheering you on.

Phase 2: The Ovulation Phase — Not Just a Sexy Energy, It Is So Much More

The member has fully grown now. She is at the peak of everything — career, confidence, presence. And she is ready for a partner. She steps forward, full of energy, full of hope, waiting for the right companion so that all she has built does not go to waste.

She is not waiting quietly. She is glowing while she waits.

If the follicular phase was the climb up the mountain, ovulation is the view from the top. This is when you feel your most powerful and most magnetic — and it is not just in your head. Research shows that your senses actually sharpen during these days. Your vision, your sense of smell, your coordination. Your body is showing up at full capacity.

And you feel it everywhere.

You walk into rooms differently. You speak with more ease. Stress that would have rattled you last week just slides off. You feel — in the truest sense — like the most important person in the world. Not arrogant. Just whole.

The follicular phase made you brave. Ovulation makes you radiant.

Phase 3: The Luteal Phase — The One Who Is Leaving

The member waited. The partner never came.

And so, quietly, she begins to pack.

She is not dramatic about it at first. She just starts pulling back — spending less time in the common areas, keeping to herself, becoming protective of her space. And as she prepares to leave, a hormone called progesterone rises in her wake. Think of progesterone as a heavy blanket your body pulls over you without asking — warm, but slow. Calming, but heavy.

The bold girl from two weeks ago? She has stepped back. Now you want to cancel plans, stay home, be alone. The social energy you had feels like it belonged to someone else.

But something else sharpens — your instincts. You suddenly see things very clearly. Situations that did not bother you before now feel wrong in a way you cannot ignore. Relationships that felt fine now feel draining. Your brain has shifted into editing mode — it is filtering, protecting, identifying what does not belong in your life.

The hunger that creeps in is your brain asking for more fuel. The anger that flares is your body’s way of feeling the loss before it fully arrives. The urge to break up with everyone and reorganise your entire life — that is just the grief of a goodbye already beginning.

This is not you being difficult. This is you feeling everything, the way you always do.

Phase 4: The Menstruation Phase — The Goodbye That Costs You

She is leaving now.

The member who grew so much, who waited with so much hope, who packed up so carefully — she walks out of the home. And she does not leave quietly.

The cramps. The back pain. The exhaustion that sits bone-deep. The tears that arrive without a reason you can name. It is not that you are being dramatic. It is that your body is going through an actual goodbye — a loss, small and enormous at the same time — and it costs something to feel that.

Every month. Without fail.

And yet, when it is over, the home is clean again. The air is fresh. The next member begins to stir.

The cycle starts over.

Why I Wrote This

I used to think the version of me who cried for no reason was the real me at my worst. I used to think the version who could walk into any room and own it was borrowed confidence that would not last.

I did not understand I was living in seasons.

Knowing this changed how I treat myself on hard days. It changed how I speak about women around me. It changed how I look at the quiet, ordinary things women do — at every phase, in every mood, through every goodbye their body asks them to feel.

I respect every woman who moves through all four of these phases, month after month, year after year — through work and love and big decisions and small Tuesdays, without always having the language for what is happening inside.

And I quietly respect the people who love them through it — who stay patient, who try to understand, who do not reduce it to just emotions.

The nature of all this amazes me. How did so much end up inside us? Why does the body do this quietly, consistently, without asking for acknowledgement?

I do not have the answer.

But I know this: every little thing a woman does during any of these four phases deserves to be celebrated. Not in spite of what her body is carrying. Because of it.

You are doing more than anyone sees.

And you are doing it anyway.