Three tn2 writers give their first impressions of the Mooncup: the environmentally friendly, cost-effective alternative to the tampon.

 

The Mooncup menstrual cup is a revelation, on all accounts. It’s cost friendly: no more spending up to €10 per period, and at €29.99 from Boots, you’ll make your money back in a few months. This is actually one of the reasons why you might not have heard much about menstrual cups: as you only need to buy them once, companies like Diva Cup and Mooncup don’t make a lot of profit, and not enough to widely advertise. Menstrual cups are also much better for the environment than the copious amounts of synthetic material that sanitary pads and tampons use. Importantly, Mooncups are also without the chemicals that lots of these products use, and come with less risk than tampons of the potentially fatal TSS (Toxic Shock Syndrome). Using a menstrual cup is also a refusal to be exploited on a monthly basis by governments such as the UK’s that list tampons and sanitary towels as luxury goods, and so subjected to a five per cent tax. This is part of the so called “pink tax” that charges more for “female”-gendered versions of products than their “male” counterparts, such as deodorant and razors.

On the practical details: configuring using the Mooncup for the first time is slightly weird. Once it’s in, I can’t feel it at all – it being a cone shaped, silicone contraption that essentially catches and holds your menstrual blood, which you then empty out every few hours. The only discomfort of the whole process comes with taking it out again, but I’m guessing that’s a matter of practice. On the whole it was pretty easy, with no spillages, and I can’t imagine any leakage happening if you’re using it right (and don’t completely forget about it). Overall, I found using the mooncup less hassle than tampons.

I figure that some of the lack of knowledge surrounding the use of Mooncups is also to do with the stigma attached to women’s bodies, and the reluctance to frankly discuss them. Especially any liquids that come out of them, which potentially weirds people out about the increased contact with their period that comes with using a menstrual cup. Shout out to Tampax and Always, who feature an ambiguous blue liquid in place of blood in their commercials (the chemicals they use on their products, perhaps?). Having a menstrual cup is a great opportunity to overcome this, and draw on some period positivity – in addition to saving money, the environment and caring for your health of course.

– Sorcha Gannon

 

I’d never been keen on the idea of Mooncups, I’m squeamish and awkward and frankly already have too many opportunities for embarrassing moments in my day to day life without factoring in a silicon cup that requires a “knack” to insert. Nonetheless, my desire to be able to legitimately identify as a woman of the world, totally in touch with my body, forced me to drag myself to Boots, and invest in my own Mooncup.

Having found a very enthusiastic eco-vlogger on Youtube who lectures on Mooncups (and reusable diapers), I felt fully educated on my pelvic floor and all the tricks needed to change a Mooncup in a public bathroom. Though you can just empty it before you leave the house: it can hold up to 8 hours’ worth of “heavy flow”. That said, the first few times were pretty uncomfortable and after my first time removing the cup – awkward positions, squeaking and “bearing down” all occurred – I was very much fuelled by my social conscience to keep going.

By the end of my period, I have to admit, the Mooncup was winning me over, not just for the positive social commentary surrounding it (many women’s charities are investing in them) but the convenience. For all the talk of a trick to insert it, I only had one leak, I did actually forget about it as the day went on, and the dreaded removal became a bit easier once I relaxed and acknowledged that it was impossible to lose a Mooncup in your vagina forever. There actually isn’t even that much blood – though that one spill did leave me feeling like Lady Macbeth.

I’m not going to say the Mooncup is now my favourite thing in the whole wide world (seriously, it has a cyber fanbase…) but it does seem a pretty good way to go. Patience and persistence are a must, and I really wouldn’t want to be a teenaged girl starting out my periods with one, but if you’re a regular tampon user and are prepared to undertake some daily motivational reading as a reminder of all the universal benefits Mooncups offer, you’re good to go.

– Emily Smith

 

There’s a special love/hate relationship that can only exist between you and your period supplies. Love because they help you when you’re at your most vulnerable, hate because you resent that they’re necessary at all. But it’s a strong relationship, built on years, even decades, of leaks, accidents, and emergency borrowings, until you’ve got the whole science down to a T. Yes, you think. I know what I am doing. I am master of my period.

So trying a new method is all kinds of terrifying. You have to put your faith into something untested, and hope it doesn’t let you down. Why bother with a Mooncup, when you’ve been managing fairly well up until now? Well, I admit I was mostly swayed by the prospect of never having to buy pads or tampons again. No more dismay at discovering an empty box in the cupboard, no more awkward eye contact with the cashier in the shop when they see what you’re buying. Add the financial saving and the environmental friendliness, and it seemed like a no-brainer.

I went for it. I braved the “feminine hygiene” section of Boots, I bought a Mooncup – and it sat in a drawer for months before I plucked up the courage to try it out. It involves getting more, ahem, “up close and personal” than other methods. Removal can be messy if you slip up – and I don’t mean “a bit of a spill”, I mean opening-scene-of-Carrie messy. It felt awkward and I didn’t have much faith in it. But then, it was the same the first time I used a tampon, and I got the hang of them (well, eventually). Switching to a Mooncup is like starting from scratch all over again, and while that’s intimidating, I am not thirteen anymore, and I think I can handle it.

– Doireann Ní Chonghaile

 

Mooncups can be purchased in Boots for €29.99.