Collection: Luz Couceiro

I have been bleeding since I was eleven years old.
For sixteen years, I was taught to hide this part of my body, to control it and make it as invisible as possible. My period was supposed to be quiet, clean, uncomplicated — adapted to a daily routine that leaves no room for humanity. Month after month, period after period, I tried to give this part of my existence as little space as possible. To make it invisible. I tried to distance myself from it. Out of shame, out of habit, out of the feeling of having to conform.
It was only a few months ago, at the age of 27, 16 years after my first period, that I truly saw my blood for the first time. In a cup.
What surprised me most was my own reaction:
No disgust, no shame, no feeling of embarrassment or burden. Instead, for the first time, I felt a deep connection with my body.