When the Body Speaks in Morse Code

Some months my body feels like it’s speaking in Morse code—short bursts, long signals, no clear translation. Recently, I had one of those episodes: cramping that didn’t feel like my “normal” cramping, strange sensory overlap where touches and temperatures seemed to echo each other, and that odd ache that made me think, Something’s happening in here, but what?

I brought it up to my doctor, Dr. Serena, who—thank God—listens like she’s translating a sacred text. She told me it could be my body mimicking ovulation symptoms. Not ovulation itself, but the same hormonal and nerve pathways lighting up, creating similar patterns of sensation. My body, in other words, was running a rehearsal for a play it wasn’t actually performing.

Here’s the complicated part: my libido is arguably more influenced by health and stress than anything else, but sometimes hormonal shifts still sneak in. My natural libido is low. not zero—but as an ace person, I think of it as undirected. Aimless. Just an itch to scratch. When I was younger and didn’t know how to manage it, it was distracting and uncomfortable. Now? I know my body well enough to handle it.

But none of that matters when the pain hits. It’s hell. The kind of pain where I throw up, can’t move without agony, yet can’t sit still either. Some days I can barely eat one meal. And then—just to keep things interesting—once in a while I’ll have a surprise month where my period shows up without any pain at all. I’ll go to the bathroom, see a stain in my underwear, and realize I’ve been bleeding without realizing it.

Earlier this year I went three months without a period due to a pituitary issue. Now that I’m on medication, my cycles are back—but they’re unpredictable. Some months my period comes earlier than my app says, some months later, and sometimes it’s on time. Which means I can’t pre-load on pain meds a few days ahead like some people do, because I never know when the red tide is actually coming.

So it’s hell if I have a period and hell when I don’t. I love being a woman, but when I’m on my period, I hate it. The system we live in—the one that treats menstrual pain like an inconvenience instead of a crisis—is not built for us.

And let’s be clear: there’s no “period sex” fantasy here. I’m ace. I can’t imagine doing anything sexual with anyone in general, but especially not when my uterus is staging a coup. If someone even tried it during my period, they’d be lucky to live to regret it.

So I keep listening to my body’s strange Morse code, even when the patterns make no sense, even when the symptoms mimic things they aren’t. Some months it whispers, some months it screams. Either way, I try to honor the message—even if it comes in pain’s handwriting.