Seven Things My Period Has Taught Me

Seven Things My Period Has Taught Me

Only recently have I come to terms with the fact that one week every month for the next 30 years or so my vagina is going to leak blood in an uncomfortable and uncontrollable way. I’ve always seen this as an affront to my personal freedom to do things like go swimming whenever I want, have sex whenever I want, and wear dainty panties whenever I want. However, aside from being a curse of femininity, it is also a free pregnancy test that I have come to appreciate because of the things it has taught me.

1: I am not always in control of my brain. Even though this is upsetting and horrifying in a way, it’s still kind of a relief. I’m not an insane person, it’s just that these chemicals turn me into a monster over shit like not being able to hear Denny Duquette propose to Izzie in episode 26 of season 2 of Grey’s Anatomy because my neighbor is starting his motorcycle, even though it’s on Netflix and I could just pause/rewind it/watch it any time I want. It’s almost like ‘roid rage, but with estrogen.

2: You can only use PMS as an excuse for things with other girls or your domestic partner. Saying it to dudes you are friends with just increases the likelihood that they’ll ask if you’re on your period because you don’t think January Jones is hot shit.

3: Suffering is real. Bloodclots aren’t just for scabs and strokes, guys.

4: Maxipads are disgusting. No matter how gross you think it might be to stick a ball of bleached cotton into your vaginal canal, there is nothing grosser than sitting all day in a pool of uterine wall lining. I don’t care how much moisture that weave wicks away, you’re still sitting in a pile of unborn baby bed.

5. Creeps will collect anything. Don’t wrap your tampons and put them in the trash. Always flush them. Unless you live in a doublewide at the Hootenanny Trailer Park, no one you know has a septic tank; even then, take the chance. Also, dogs will eat anything, so that’s something else to keep in mind.

6: Toxic Shock Syndrome either isn’t a real thing, or at least I haven’t gotten anyone drunk enough to admit that they’ve had it. Or who knows, maybe I just don’t know anyone gross enough to not change their tampon for days at a time.

7: Always own black underwear. They don’t have to fit well or be comfortable, nor do they have to come from Victoria’s Secret or cost more than $5 for 20 pairs. Or, even better, but nice-fitting, comfortable expensive black panties and just wear those exclusively. No one will ever be able to tell your period undies apart from your date night panties.

Courtney Algeo

Photo by Naomi & Nicole (Creative Commons)