Your Experience as a Woman Is Not TMI
If you’ve ever hesitated before sharing something real about your body or apologized for naming your experience, this reflection is for you.
The number of women, including friends, colleagues, and acquaintances, who have said something to me along the lines of "sorry if this is TMI but…" and then proceeded to talk about something that is a completely normal part of being a woman is astounding.
It happens so frequently that I feel like I missed a memo saying we are all supposed to use this phrase or supposed to word our disclosure in such a way as to minimize others' discomfort, to preemptively apologize in case we trespass against what is considered socially acceptable to publicly, or even privately, discuss.
This phrasing has preceded a range of topics including:
menstrual cycle imbalances
period cramps or other discomforts while bleeding
endometriosis, polycystic ovarian syndrome, and premenstrual dysphoric disorder
fertility issues and childbirth experiences
postpartum feelings and body experiences
miscarriage and abortion
urinary tract and yeast infections
pain and discomfort during sex
inability to orgasm
infections from piercings
issues of any kind relating to how the body naturally functions
Because I spend time in spaces that deep dive into the full spectrum of experiences and health issues concerning women’s bodies, I regularly hear these topics discussed in a straightforward, matter-of-fact manner where no apology is issued before divulging something not typically part of the wider cultural discourse.
But it's always a bit jarring when I leave these spaces and return to the mainstream, only to find women apologizing or using language to cater to my assumed discomfort, speaking in hushed tones as if discussing some secret taboo, rather than acknowledging the reality that their experiences are normal, widespread, and shared by women every day in every part of the world.
Here’s the truth:
“It's not ‘too much information’ to discuss being a woman having a woman's experience.”
Or even a human having a human experience. And please, please, please stop apologizing for it.
These are all normal parts of being alive in a female body. Let's normalize talking about our experiences as women and all that we go through in our lifetime.
Oddly, I have never heard anyone apologize or worry about being “too much” before sharing about the following topics:
diets, counting calories, and losing weight
manicures and pedicures
makeup and teeth whiteners
hair extensions and coloring grey hair
getting a piercing
bikini waxes and laser hair removal
Botox, lip fillers, and liposuction
plastic surgery aimed at fixing perceived flaws
anti-aging products and procedures
What do all of these topics have in common? These processes, products, and procedures focus on our outer appearance, on maintaining the image and aesthetic of what we believe a woman should look like.
“And yet the actual lived experience of being a woman is considered taboo, too much, a little inappropriate to talk about.”
As women, we’ve bought into the myth that we’re only supposed to acknowledge the effort we put into preserving youth and beauty, the ways in which we perform health and wellness. How we endlessly adjust, fix, polish, and perfect to ensure a desirable outcome.
These are the acceptable conversation topics; what’s below the surface is off limits. We don’t want to recognize what’s underneath the facade, to shine a light on the messy realities of our female biology.
We fear dropping the mask, even with our closest female friends, the people most likely to validate and empathize with our stories, because we have been conditioned to feel shame and stigma, to feel we are “too much.”
And if we must bring up our less than perfect experiences, we apologize for the inconvenience, the burden, the departure from social norms, implying to ourselves and those who listen that the subject matter might be objectionable to articulate out loud.
This cultural conditioning to apologize for being female, the belief that women are too much simply by having natural and common experiences, and that women must prioritize what’s on the outside at the expense of their inner reality, is pervasive. And it isn't going away unless individual women choose to stop buying into these ideas.
This means getting comfortable enough with our lived reality to drop the curated aesthetic we have been taught to portray and instead choose to authentically share what’s true for us.
This change also necessitates understanding the extent to which our behaviors have been influenced by patriarchal messages, requiring that we actively deconstruct our beliefs about which parts of female reality must remain hidden and do the inner work to intentionally release the idea that we are too much.
If you are ready to boldly reclaim your uncensored experience of living life in your body, here are a few suggestions for how to make it happen:
STOP APOLOGIZING FOR BEING A WOMAN
It bears repeating because this habit is so ingrained in women everywhere. If you weren't aware of it before, you might start noticing women apologizing all around you now that it's on your mind. If you find yourself saying sorry in situations that don't actually warrant that sentiment, I invite you to delete the word from your vocabulary entirely.
Every time you apologize for sharing your unfiltered experience, you are subconsciously training yourself that:
women’s bodies, natural processes, and inner experiences are taboo
there’s something wrong or shameful about what you’re sharing
your share isn’t worthy of discussion or you need to ask permission to divulge
an abridged version of your story would be more polite
Furthermore, you are signaling to the women around you that their full stories are also not welcome in their entirety.
For years I took notice whenever a woman in my life issued an apology before sharing what was real for her. Each time I consciously interpreted her utterance as an admission of discomfort, both about her own experience and what I might think of her for bringing it into the open. The word “sorry” served as a reminder that she believed her confession crossed the boundary of what was socially palatable.
Each time, I wondered whether she expected me to dilute my own experience or issue my own apology if I shared with her. I felt an invisible pressure to mimic her words despite not feeling the natural inclination to apologize, privately thinking to do so felt unjustified and a little absurd.
Similarly, I picked up on the times I witnessed women share unapologetically, completely owning their experience without diminishing. I instantly felt safer with these women, like I too could voice what was real without needing to distort or gloss over the details. Their willingness to be authentic offered encouragement for me to do the same.
We learn from the women in our circle what’s ok and what isn’t. We pick up on subtle cues, sometimes unconsciously, about how we should be and behave.
“If we apologize, we are implicitly telling other women they need to do the same.”
We are asking them to erase, minimize, or adjust their experience or if they have the audacity to fully speak it aloud, to apologize.
Let’s put a stop to this.
CHOOSE YOUR LANGUAGE INTENTIONALLY
Our language patterns reveal our conditioning beyond whether we simply issue that initial apology. More broadly, we tend to speak in ways that are similar to the women around us as their language gets encoded in our brain. We register their words, mirroring without thinking twice.
Yet most of us don’t take the time to consciously consider the impact of our words and the deeper meaning they convey. We don’t always choose our words with care or perceive how they are received and internalized.
“However, our language matters. The language you use, hear, and internalize matters. The language you impart to other women matters. The language young girls pick up while listening to you matters and also shapes their worldview and ideas about women.”
Challenge yourself to examine how you speak. The next time you share something personal, notice how you default to expressing yourself:
What tone do you use when sharing stories about your body’s experience?
Are you attaching negativity or judgment to what you share?
Are you glossing over the grittier details to make something more palatable?
What are you implying by the language you choose?
Consider whether this is an accurate reflection of how you feel about yourself, if this is how you actually intend to communicate what’s important to you. Make it a priority to speak intentionally in a way that conveys full ownership of your experience.
Words are powerful and the more you commit to speaking in a way that deeply honors every facet of your experience, the more you will believe your experiences are worthy of expression in the first place.
ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR OWN DISCOMFORT
Many cultures around the world stigmatize anything and everything related to how women’s bodies naturally function while many organized religions offer a very narrow view of how women are supposed to conduct themselves.
There’s often a covert contract in place asking us to appear nothing less than perfect on the outside and demanding that we conceal what’s on the inside if it doesn’t match the ideal.
This split perpetuates the belief among women that we need to ask permission to disclose, to censor what’s not pretty, to minimize for the sake of others’ discomfort. And of course, if none of that works, we need to apologize.
If you didn’t grow up with elder women modeling how to openly share more personal experiences without shame or judgement, doing so might initially feel foreign as you work to unlearn these behaviors.
Notice and acknowledge where this might be the case:
What comes up when you start to share something you believe might make someone else feel uncomfortable?
What feelings, thoughts, or sensations arise in your body?
How do you react to the discomfort?
To what extent can you practice validating your experience as worthy of sharing?
It’s normal to feel inner resistance or discomfort when bringing up topics that are often still not discussed openly. However, the more willing you are to sit with the discomfort that arises, the more quickly you will create space for a new way of sharing about your experience to emerge.
NORMALIZE YOUR EXPERIENCE IN A FEMALE BODY
Simply owning your experience is powerful, especially as a woman. You don't need to share anything that you don't want to, but if you do choose to share, practice being unapologetic about what you're going through.
When I am actively bleeding each month, I typically choose not to carry on as usual. I don’t pretend that it’s any other day of the month and instead I alter my behavior to take care of my body. If there is a social engagement or any kind of optional activity, I usually choose not to participate and instead prioritize rest. In the past few years, I've made it a point to explicitly tell my friends the reason I am not participating is simply because I’m on my period.
“For me, the menstrual phase of my cycle has become a very intentional time of rest and inward focus, a way of honoring and acknowledging my biological reality as a woman in my reproductive years.”
Yet for the longest time I used to say something more generic about how I wasn’t feeling well as an excuse to not join activities. I was stuck in the conditioning that my experience during the menstrual phase of my cycle just wasn’t painful or extreme enough to warrant acting differently at this time of the month, particularly when so many women experience debilitating symptoms and mine usually amount to a day of mild discomfort.
These days it’s quite outside the norm to actively choose to rest during menstruation, particularly in Westernized countries where women largely adopt the attitude that bleeding each month is a nuisance at best and a curse at worst.
I felt like I needed a “valid” reason to justify taking care of myself, despite knowing the importance of menstrual cycle care in women’s overall health and despite understanding my body’s desire to slow down, turn inward, and simply be without doing.
We don't often see this modeled in the wider collective, this unapologetic stance of being a woman at a particular phase of life and not pretending otherwise, though things are gradually changing. Many of us are still too polite, too self-conscious, and too worried what other people think.
“Yet normalizing the reality of our bodies is so important and gives other women permission to do the same.”
Multiple women have reflected back to me how hearing my own forthright stance on taking care of myself has shifted how they view their own relationship with their bodies and allowed them to reimagine how they take care of themselves. By normalizing our experiences in female bodies, each one of us has the power to do this for the women in our lives. So let’s do it!
Want to go deeper?
Do you believe your body is a burden?
We censor and downplay our body’s actual experience because we’ve internalized the idea that there’s something wrong with how our bodies naturally are.
We relentlessly optimize, police, and control in an effort to fix and perfect to matter the cost. If you are ready to examine and release these behaviors, get started with this free journal.