Working at Sancare Solutions, a company dedicated to feminine hygiene, changed something fundamental in me. Personally, It wasn’t just an opportunity to volunteer, it was a window into a quiet, often hidden world of struggle. I met girls living in children’s homes, bright, funny, and hopeful girls, who carried a secret shame about something as natural as their own bodies. The stigma around menstruation was a tangible thing around my community. 

I saw that while missing sanitary products was a real, physical problem, the deeper wound was the lack of dignity. A girl would miss school because she was terrified of a stain of being laughed at. She would isolate herself, believing her own her period was something dirty, something to be concealed.

And so my work became about more than sanitary cleaning services. It became about fostering connections with the girls. I sat on the edges of bunk beds and in sunny courtyards, and we just talked. We talked about cramps and confusing moods, about fears of leaks and the annoyance of it all. We also talked about their dreams-to be teachers, nurses, artists. Slowly, I watched the language shift. The word "shame" began to be replaced by "normal." The word "problem" was sometimes met with a shrug and a "it’s just my period." We demystified it, piece by piece. I told them, "This isn't a curse. This is life."

One of my proudest moments was convincing the company that our care services couldn't stop at those who could pay. We needed to reach the girls who had nowhere to turn. After careful deliberations, we started delivering free, consistent supplies and support to children’s homes.

This experience taught me that compassion is not a fluffy feeling. It's practical and hands-on. It is meeting a basic need with a smile instead of a sigh. It is breaking a suffocating silence with a simple, "It's okay, I understand." It is restoring dignity by looking someone in the eye and saying, "You have nothing to be ashamed of." I learned that care is not charity, which can feel distant and one-sided. True care is the righting of a wrong. And that justice begins in the simplest ways: by listening intently, by truly seeing the person in front of you, and then by acting.

I learned that stigma is like a weed that only grows in the dark of silence. Our straightforward education, our normalization of the conversation-these were acts of gentle demolition, breaking down walls of shame brick by brick.

Working at Sancare Solutions showed me that care is not merely about the product in the box. It is about the power we help someone find within themselves. It is about watching a girl stand a little taller, speak a little more confidently, and look at her own reflection with a bit more kindness. It is about empowerment-giving her the quiet confidence to embrace her body as strong and capable, to care for her health without embarrassment, and to step into her future unburdened.

In the end, this work transcended hygiene. It became about our shared humanity. It was about the compassion that says, "Your comfort matters."