Waking up for suhoor, turning on the tap to splash myself awake and make wudu, then sitting down to eat and pray at 5 a.m. with my mom. It’s my chance to beg on my prayer mat for forgiveness and to have my alone time with God.
But sometimes, I only make it as far as the bathroom before realizing that my period has come.
And just like that, my Ramadan routine has paused, and a new one begins.
Nothing is worse than getting your period during the month of Ramadan. A lot of other Muslim women might disagree and say things like, “Well, at least I can have my morning coffee now,’ or something like, Now I can sleep in and not have to worry about fajr [morning prayer].’ At first, those perks feel kind of exciting, freeing, even.
The first day is always relaxing. You wake up at 10 a.m., make your vanilla iced matcha, maybe even go to the gym, then sit down and have a nice breakfast. Later in the evening, you help your family prepare iftar—tasting the food, helping set the tables, and relaxing until you can eat with your family at iftar time. It’s the best. I would say it’s the best first experience, but after the first or even the second time, it’s suffocating.
During Ramadan, Muslims fast from dawn until sunset, pray more frequently, and often spend their evenings at the masjid for tawareeh prayers. The month is meant to be a time to spiritually immerse yourself in your faith—a time to change habits, read the Qur’an, and ask for forgiveness.
For Muslim women on their menstrual cycle, it means they can’t fast or pray, or even go to the masjid. These are rules that God has bestowed upon Muslim women, and you can’t do anything about them.
Being unable to do all the things that make Ramadan special makes girls feel left out. It’s like when all your friends hang out without you because your mom said you can’t go. You’re desperately watching from the sidelines, waiting for the next hangout so your mom can hopefully say yes.
That’s what period FOMO in Ramadan feels like.
Of course, there are ways you can participate without fasting or praying. Many women do dhikr, which is basically calling out to God, using His names—any of the 99 that were revealed in Islam. And we ask Him for forgiveness, or whatever it is that we desire.
Others read Qur’an translations, listen to lectures, or spend time reflecting on their habits. But it still feels different.
Islam doesn’t treat menstruation as a punishment or spiritual failure. In fact, being exempt from fasting and prayer during your period is considered a mercy from God. Still, that doesn’t always stop the emotional tug of missing out.
For many Muslim women, Ramadan becomes a balance between accepting the reality of missing out on the “true Ramadan experience” for a short period and staying connected to the rest of the world.
But at the end of the day, they’re just girls who want to feel included—and they always are.