I tried using a menstrual cup, and now I’ll never go back

When it comes to menstrual care, the conversation often centers around two kinds of products: pads and tampons. Some women prefer the humble, yet diaper-esque pad. Others prefer the inconspicuous, albeit mildly intrusive tampon.

But amidst this debate enters a product that transcends the rest, heroically challenging Mother Nature’s bloody floodgates. It’s a product not widely acknowledged or discussed, but let me tell you, it holds the key to ultimate menstrual comfort, ease, environmental friendliness, and cost-effectiveness.

What’s this magical product, you ask?

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the menstrual cup.

I know what you’re thinking: No way, José. I am not shoving some squelchy, alien-looking suction shot glass into my nether regions.

And you’d be right—this thing is pretty intimidating.

But have no fear, because I’ve been testing this sucker out for the past few months just for you! In fact, in the interest of experimental integrity, I adhered to the steps of the scientific method as taught to me by my elementary school science teacher.

Step 1: Question

Will the menstrual cup make my life easier? Will I spend less money? Will I save the environment? Will it hurt? Is it gross? Will it leak? How does it work? Why am I doing this? WHY AM I DOING THIS?

Step 2: Research

I did a fair amount of research about one menstrual cup in particular, the DivaCup. Here are some quick notes:

Guarantees 12 hours of leak free protection.

May be worn overnight.

Made from 100% healthcare grade silicone.

Menstrual blood only develops an odor when exposed to air, so using a cup means you won’t smell bad.

May be used by women of all ages, shapes and sizes.

DivaCup recommends you replace your cup annually, but with proper care they may last up to ten years (challenge accepted?).

Holds up to 5 times the amount of a tampon.

The average women uses 300-420 tampons/pads per year, costing $100-225.

Costs about $35.

Step 3: Hypothesis

I hypothesize that the menstrual cup will do its job, and I will eventually bask in the glory and convenience of never again having to lug around tampons and pads in my backpack. I acknowledge that I am writing this article several months after the fact, so I know that it is going to work. But no matter.

Step 4: Experiment

Here comes the hard part. I watched approximately twelve different YouTube videos instructing me about how to use a menstrual cup, most of which came from a young girl’s YouTube channel called Precious Star Pads.

I perused blog post after blog post, seeking instructions on how to achieve optimal comfort with such an intimidating device. Eventually I gave in, dropped 35 bucks on a DivaCup at CVS, and set my sights on the finish line.

The folds

Most of my research told me to try two ways of inserting the DivaCup: the U-fold, where you just fold it like a taco, and the punch down fold, where you invert one side of the cup with your pointer finger to create a sort of arrow shape.

Or a torpedo.

I don’t know, just look at the pictures.

I don’t fuck with U-fold The punch-down fold, for which I couldn’t think of a song to carry that joke.

I found that the punch-down fold was far more realistic and comfortable for me – in fact, it is about the same width as a tampon. It took a few tries, but eventually I was able to finagle that little bastard into place.

Insertion: check.

Punched down DivaCup next to a Kotex super tampon. #science

The seal

Every blog post and video said that the most important part of inserting a menstrual cup is to create a seal once the cup is inside your vagina. The DivaCup has four suction holes around the rim to help with this, so after twisting the cup a few times and running my finger around the outside edge, it opened up and settled right in like a beautiful silicone flower.

Seal: check.

The tail

The DivaCup comes with a lil’ baby tail on the end of it. Many of my sources told me that women often need to cut off the tail because it is too long, but others choose to keep it. I ended up cutting it off, which made it much more comfortable.

Tail: check.

And now we wait

After you get the DivaCup successfully inserted, you shouldn’t feel a thing. I strategically chose to try the DivaCup out on a day when I’d be close to home and within reach of tampons, just in case I screwed something up and started leaking everywhere.

Lo and behold, I did, but after a few tries I learned to insert it correctly and the problems were greatly reduced.

The removal

The DivaCup was much easier to take out than to put in. Simply pinch the bottom of the cup to release the suction and pull it out – just remember to angle it backwards so that you don’t hit your urethra, because that hurts like a bitch.

The cleaning

It’s super easy to clean this thing. In fact, the act of gingerly wrapping a pad or tampon in toilet paper and placing it in the trash several times a day is arguably a bigger hassle than dumping this sucker out in the toilet or shower and rinsing it with soap every twelve hours.

If blood bothers you, then don’t get the menstrual cup or get over it. If blood doesn’t bother you, then congratulations, you are about to be the proud new owner of a menstrual cup #swerve.

P.S. use the DivaWash or an unscented, water-based soap to wash your menstrual cup, and make sure that the four suction release holes are clear.

You may also boil it every so often to really get it clean, and store it in this adorable little dry bag pouchy thing when you’re not using it.

Step 5: Analysis

After the initial trial-and-error stage, during which I admittedly challenged both my stain-removing skills and my pride, I actually got the hang of this thing. When used correctly, you really can’t feel it at all and it’s even less intrusive than a tampon with that pesky string flopping everywhere.

As someone with a fairly light flow, I only need to change the DivaCup in the morning and at night, often forgetting that I’m even on my period at all. I also find it interesting to see the physical volume of blood produced during a normal cycle – all this time I’ve thought gallons of uterine lining were gushing out of me, but more often than not it was only a couple teaspoons. Go figure.

My primary motivation for trying out this newfangled technology was to lessen my environmental impact. I previously bought tampons with cardboard applicators, which kind of suck but made me feel like at least some halfhearted effort was being made. The menstrual cup eliminated all trash from my period, and completely paid for itself after a few cycles.

Essentially, if you can’t tell, I want to marry my menstrual cup.

A photographic rendering of my emotional transition between tampons and the menstrual cup.

Step 6: Conclusion

This scary-looking contraption is well worth the money and effort to figure it out. After a cycle or two, I became a menstrual cup pro. I felt better. I smiled more. I carried myself with the statuesque dignity of a money-saving, environmentally-conscious, period-defying queen.

If you’re feeling brave and willing to abandon the dry, cottony feeling of tampons that we all know and hate, just throw yourself a bone and try out the menstrual cup. I hope this in-depth article was useful in your period adventures, and that no matter what you use to combat your little red monster, it makes you as happy as my menstrual cup makes me. And that, my friends, is how you persuade an audience.

I bid you good day.

@TheTab