My late-teens and early twenties were full of the typical “adulting” questions: “How do I budget money?” “When should I get my tires rotated?” “What exactly is a pap smear?” And of course, the totally casual, “What does it mean to be a Jewish woman?”
Yeah, that last one came as a surprise to me too.
I had always considered myself actively engaged in my Judaism, but it was during college that I started to expand my idea of how it related to my life.
This exploration was first sparked during a freshman year Humanities course in which we read The Red Tent, by Anita Diamant. While reading this book, I had a realization. It went a little something like this:
“Woah, wait. I’m not just Jewish. I’m a Jewish woman.”
For the next few years, this realization stirred in the back of my mind while I navigated my newfound adulthood and all of the life lessons and anxieties that came along with it. At times, this period of growth took its toll on my physical form, and I started to take notice of my body’s functions, reactions, and cravings. I began to listen to my body and in doing so, found a sense of awe in everything it had to offer, from lungs that constantly overcame asthma, to beautiful dark body hair, and most notably for me, my menstrual cycle.
The fact that I menstruate had always, to me, been associated with my identity as a woman, but it was never deeply significant to my personhood. Only after I tuned into my body did I stop seeing menstruation as a passive process. Jewish people have a tradition of interacting mindfully with the body. This can be seen in ritual hand-washing, immersing in the mikvah (ritual bath), reciting the Asher Yatzar blessing after using the restroom, using certain movements during prayer, and many other examples. I found that being a Jewish woman meant actively engaging with my body, especially the aspects that felt connected to my womanhood.
I became mesmerized by my menstrual cycle.
The way that it informed and reflected my emotions and physical sensations seemed to connect me to something greater than myself. I was overwhelmed by the fact that so much of my life has been and will be spent bleeding, not the blood of a wound, but instead what I came to identify as a holy blood of renewal. My body was literally shedding the old to make way for the new. With this new perspective, I felt enveloped by the Divine Presence and compelled to express my gratitude for a body that bleeds a deep rich red and, in doing so, physically links me to nature’s cyclical rhythm.
I was motivated to engage with and give thanks for my menstrual cycle, and wanted to do so in the way that my Jewish ancestors had given thanks for thousands of years: in the form of a brakhah, a blessing.
I knew that Judaism had hundreds of blessings — blessings for eating food, seeing the ocean, encountering sickness, and even building a fence (which I have yet to do, but you never know) — so I figured I would just ask my rabbi for the blessing one says at the onset of menstruation. He didn’t have one. I went to my other rabbi; she didn’t have one. I went to Rabbi Google and she had lots of rituals, poems, and essays on Jewish menstruation… but where was the brakhah? You know, “Barukh atah Ad-nai; Blessed are You our G-d who…” If it was out there, it was hiding.
I desperately wanted to honor my period in the way of my tradition, but I wasn’t seeing what I wanted. I soon learned that the traditional canon of brakhot (plural of brakhah) does not include a menstruation brakhah.
There are a few different interpretations as to why this is the case. Some argue that it is because menstruation is associated with the loss of potential life, and therefore with death, which does not historically warrant a brakhah in traditional Judaism. Others argue that it is because the traditional brakhot were written by men in ancient times, and to menstruate was not their experience.
No matter the reason behind the lack of a traditional period brakhah, I was determined to find one. I had heard that there was an incredible Jewish women’s health and wellness organization called At The Well. I sent them an email asking if they had a brakhah that I could use. Within twenty-four hours I received a call from the organization’s founder, Sarah Waxman.
“We don’t have one, but would you like to inspire one with us?”
That question set into motion two years of energizing work in which women from all over the At The Well network studied, discussed, and dreamed together. I had the immense pleasure of interviewing multiple women from various Jewish backgrounds and traditions, with differing practices, ideas, and values, asking:
The goal was to gain as much information as possible so that our final product could be created with multiple perspectives in mind. We wanted it to be accessible, relatable, community-driven, and above all, holy.
The result was the At The Well period brakhah, lovingly crafted by the Talmud scholar Hadar Cohen and me. Over the course of two months, Hadar and I poured our energy into each word of the brakhah, both in the Hebrew and English forms, letting the insight from our interviews and the deep desire to meet this precious need guide our writing.
We are honored to now share our completed brakhah.
It is meant as a gift to our menstruating bodies and all of the beautiful complexities they come with. We hope that the words of this brakhah bring forth an awareness of the body’s holy energy for all who recite it, and that it strengthens the sacred bond that exists between one’s menstrual blood, their soul, and the Divine.
We offer these words with both traditionally-masculine Hebrew language and feminine alternatives (in parentheses). Please use the language that feels right for you.
This brakhah is meant for you to engage with in the time and setting that feels most comfortable, whether that be on the first day of your period, the moment you realize you are about to get it, or anytime throughout your bleeding days. Think about a space where you feel most connected to your body and your flow. It could be the shower, your bedroom, or outside. These words are yours to embrace and to weave into your life as you see fit.
ברוך אתה יי (ברוכה את שכינה), אל מעצב(ת) ומשחרר(ת) באהבה דם קדוש מתוך גופי ומכלכל(ת) נשמתי שזורמת בתוכי ונותנת לי את היכולת לקבל את השמש כל בוקר.
Barukh atah Adonai (B’rukhah at Shekhinah), El ma’atzev(et) v’mishcharer(et) dam kadosh mitokh gufi v’mekhalkel(et) nishmati she-zoremet b’tokhi v’notenet li et ha-yikholet l’kabel et ha-shemesh kol boker.
Blessed are You, the Divine Designer, who lovingly releases sacred blood from the inner workings of my body and sustains the life that flows through me and allows me to greet each morning’s sunlight.
השבח לך, בורא(ת) העולם הטבעי, שיצר(ת) לנו את הירח שמחזור בשלבים. כפי שהיא שלמה בכל רגע במסעה, כך גם הגוף שלי מתחדש בכל עת.
Hishbach l’kha (lakh), Boreh (Bora’at) ha-olam ha-tivi, she-yatzar (she-yatzeret) lanu et ha-yareach she-machzor b’shalavim. K’fi she-hi shalemah b’khol rega b’mase’ah, kakh gam ha-guf sheli mitchadesh b’khol et.
Praise You, Creator of the Natural World, who formed for us the moon that cycles through phases. Just as she is whole at each moment in her journey, so too is my body which constantly renews itself.
אני מודה לך הקדוש(ה) ברוך הוא (ברוכה היא) היקר(ה) שנותן (שנותנת) לי את הגוף הווסת הזה שדרכו אני עוסקת במסורת יהודית עתיקה, שמשגיחה על ההתגלמות הפיזית של רוחי.
Ani modah l’kha (lakh) Ha-kadosh Barukh Hu Ha-yakar (Ha-k’dushah B’rukhah Hi Hayakarah) she-noten(et) li et ha-guf ha-veset ha-zeh she-drakho ani oseket b’masoret yehudit atikah, she-mashgichah al ha-hitgalmut ha-physit shel ruchi.
Thank you Dear Holy One for gifting me this menstruating body through which I engage in an ancient Jewish tradition that cares for the physical embodiment of my spirit.
בחוזק תפילה זאת, אני רוצה להרגיש את החיבור בין דמי, נשמתי, והאלוהים. אני מכירה בדימום המחזור כקודש לאלוהים ונוכחות האלוהים איתי עכשיו ולתמיד.
B’chozek t’filah zot, ani rotzah l’hargish et ha-chibor ben dami, nishmati, v’Elohim. Ani makirah b’dimum ha-machzor k’kadosh l’Elohim v’nokh’chut ha-Elohim iti akhshav v’l’tamid.
In praying these words, may I feel a relationship between my blood, my soul, and the Divine, recognizing that this ritual bleeding is sanctified and that G-d’s Presence is with me now and always.
I like to think that maybe one day I will live in a world where someone somewhere is always praying this brakhah, and that collectively we will speak into existence a constant mindfulness of life’s cyclical nature and the divine spark within all people.
I am so thankful to the entire At The Well community for watering the seeds of this project. When I sent that initial email to the organization, I never could have dreamed that this is the journey that would have unfolded — a journey of incredible spiritual growth, learning, visioning, and creating — all of which are processes that ultimately, I have realized, are also part of what it means to me to be a Jewish woman. The creation of this brakhah is itself worthy of blessing.
On the nights that I go to sleep with a heavy body, tired from renewing itself, and a throbbing in my lower abdomen, I pull the warm covers up close to my face and expel a deep sigh of relief. I know that in the morning my blood will make herself known to me and that I will lovingly welcome her back and give thanks to the Divine One, with our brakhah, for the beautiful gift that is my period.
At The Well uplifts many approaches to Jewish practice. Our community draws on ancient Jewish wisdom, sometimes adapting longstanding practices to more deeply support the well-being of women and nonbinary people. See this article’s sources below. We believe Torah (sacred teachings) are always unfolding to help answer the needs of the present moment.
The Red Tent, Anita Diamant
What Is a Bracha?, Aish.org
Bringing New Meaning to the Status of a Menstruating Woman, ReformJudaism.org
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Tori Luecking is a lover of all things Jewish spirituality. She lives to have DMCs (deep meaningful conversations) with others about Jewish learning, prayer, and vibrancy. She is a former Hillel professional and student of the Pardes Institute in Jerusalem, where she took classes in Women in Judaism and Talmud. She thinks armpit hair is beautiful, loves Anita Diamant’s The Red Tent, and envisions a world in which women feel empowered to connect with their inherent Divine Spark every day. On the weekends you can catch her playing darts with her S.O. or writing content for her poetry Instagram, @zaharapoetry.
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