Fair Warning: This post contains talk about lady things. Specifically periods, tampons, and PMS. So if you’re my dad, or any other male who has difficulty with the female reality, it might be best to sit this one out. If you are like me and have no shame talking about all things vaginal, well… high five, and keep reading.
I’ve had my period since I was 12 years old. Go ahead, do the math. That’s 25 years! In all of my 25 years of “womanhood” I never once stopped to really examine my tampons. But all that changed a few months back. One innocent little glance down at my tampon wrapper revealed a shocking discovery. Turns out, all this time… MY TAMPONS HAVE BEEN BOSSING ME AROUND! No seriously! Don’t believe me? See for yourself:
Did my tampon seriously just tell me to try something new? Who does she think she is…my mom? You know what “something new” I’d really like to try? A hysterectomy. That’s what.
Okay, um…thanks? I’m doubled over with cramps and back pain, bleeding profusely, and hardly able to function because my brain is in a complete fog. I’ll focus on whatever I damn well please.
Wow, now this one is deep. Too bad I spend most of my period regretting the way I just snapped at my husband, and blew up at my kids, or started sobbing for no apparent reason. It’s hard not to regret being the crabbiest bitch on the face of the planet for a week out of each month.
Yeah, thanks. I can’t wait to get out there and show them that I have swollen, painful, ENORMOUS period boobs. I’m also proud to show off my extra 5 pounds of water retention weight, and adult acne. You’re absolutely right, tampon. I’m so proud to “show em’ what I got” this week!
Really? Do I look like a photographer to you? Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.
Keep going? That’s fantastic advice. As in, keep going to the bathroom every 20 minutes because you’re sure you’re already leaking through? Keep going to bed with a heating pad on your uterus? Keep going to the store because you ran out of Midol? Ugh. I’ll be sure to do that.
And last but not least, I did find ONE motivational message that wasn’t a command…but a compliment.
I mean, I can’t deny…it’s true. Thanks for acknowledging my moves, tampon.
So there you have it. I don’t know who’s in charge of the “motivational quote” department at the tampon factory. But whoever it is (and I’m guessing it’s a man) deserves a serious raise.
Because my period just got a whole lot better. Thanks, tampons!
This post was originally featured on Marie’s blog, Make Your Own Damn Dinner.