The concept of menstrual leave often seems secondary to more urgent gender issues, especially in the developing world. There are countless ongoing debates around women’s rights and it sometimes feels like it’s impossible to give mental energy to everything at once. Yet, a personal experience during a summer internship in India made me reconsider menstrual leave’s importance.

One of the most talented managers on my team — typically confident and vocal — was unusually silent during a critical meeting. Despite being repeatedly urged by our boss to speak, her usual assertiveness seemed buried under a cloud of pain. The pain was obvious in the way she winced with every shift in her chair, and her uncharacteristic silence. On being asked what was wrong, she simply shrugged, said she was on her period, and expressed intense pain. I insisted she tell our boss. But she hesitated, explaining that while some Indian workplaces offer menstrual leave, ours did not, and she wasn’t sure how to bring it up with our male boss. What upset me most was that our boss might have been doubting her competence, unaware that her demeanor had nothing to do with her abilities.

This incident is clearly not an isolated case. I began to think about all the times I’ve powered through a workday myself, after taking multiple painkillers and grinning through the discomfort. Why do we have to grin and bear it? Why isn’t it normalized, even in supposedly progressive institutions, for people who menstruate to take a couple of days off without having to explain themselves or engage in uncomfortable conversations?

In some workplaces, like Zomato in India, the concept of menstrual leave has been successfully implemented. Employees are allowed up to ten days of menstrual leave a year and can simply notify their team by posting a calendar emoji, no questions asked​. It’s a simple yet effective approach that removes any awkwardness and makes the policy feel like a normal part of the work culture.

It’s undeniable that there are concerns about menstrual leave policies. Critics fear that these policies might reinforce negative stereotypes, portraying menstruating employees as less reliable. In Japan, for instance, menstrual leave has been available since 1947, yet less than 10% of eligible people take advantage of it, often fearing judgment from male colleagues​. There's also concern that menstrual leave could discourage employers from hiring women for fear of extra leave costs​.

My counterargument is simple: when people who menstruate are forced to push through pain, it doesn’t make them more competent. Instead, they’re less effective and might resort to using more general sick leave, which could also be seen negatively. Furthermore, policies like menstrual leave, if part of broader health and wellness initiatives, can mitigate concerns about misuse or discrimination. The World Bank and other organizations have advocated for menstrual leave to be integrated into larger, gender-inclusive frameworks that promote flexible work hours and overall health​. (World Bank)

Educational settings, with their focus on growth and inclusivity, are ideally positioned to implement menstrual leave policies without the commercial pressures that might plague workplaces. A framework that allows students to take what we could call “personal wellness days” could significantly improve the academic experience for those who menstruate. Professors, more likely to understand the reality of repeated requests, can gauge legitimate needs and ensure the system isn’t misused. And why would someone fake a "wellness day" and use their quota for the month when the majority of people experience genuine pain during their periods?

If this seems like an unfair advantage for those who menstruate, consider that only 10-30% of people experience no pain. For the other 70-90%, managing intense discomfort while trying to meet academic or professional demands is not only unfair but also a barrier to equitable participation​. Having the option to take a day or two off each month, without needing to justify yourself, is a small but necessary step toward creating a more inclusive environment.

Lastly, for those who are not sure why a formal system has to exist and when an informant notification could suffice, it is important to consider the stigmas surrounding the topic and the hesitancy to discuss it in professional environments, especially with male supervisors. As long as societal discourse around menstruation is stifled, it is not fair to expect people to carve out their entitlement and be prepared for ensuing backlash.

As the conversation about menstrual leave continues to evolve, both workplaces and educational institutions have the chance to lead the way. By implementing thoughtful and compassionate policies, we can create environments that truly value equitable participation. It’s time we stopped expecting people to hide their periods and start fostering spaces where everyone can perform at their best.