Getting your period is one of the most feminine things you can do other than growing a miniature human in your stomach. It’s something only other women truly understand, “Hail to the V!” and all that pro-vagina nonsense. It’s the very first sign that we really are on the path to becoming a REAL woman (because clearly we were only fake women before our ovaries were exploding). Moms and daughters celebrate, FINALLY! I’M GROWING UP! Next stop? Boob-city!
My mom discussed with me the difference in pads and tampons (but sadly not sizes of tampons which I found out the hard way). She bought me midol and chocolate and we celebrated my journey into womanhood. I thought I was prepared. I had the knowledge! I had the facts! I had everything I needed to overcome the obstacles and hurdles my lady parts might throw at me!
I was wrong.
Mom didn’t tell me everything I needed to know. NEEDED TO KNOW, people! Tampons and pads may be trial and error, but there are things we SHOULD be teaching these flowering females that are just as, if not MORE important to know than your regular run of the mill “Okay honey, you’re gonna have cramps and you shouldn’t wear white pants!” type of advice.
PMS does not always stand for “putting up with men’s shit”. I spent years wondering where my man hating rage was, but it never came. Sad face.
Apparently, every uterus has its very own unique (and bitchy) personality, which means that everyone’s brand of PMS is different, so I suppose there is still reason for men to be afraid; VERY afraid. You won’t always get cranky or angry or hate the whole world; maybe you won’t EVER feel that way! Sometimes you might just bloat up like a dead cow in a hot pasture and try to remedy that by shoving a super-sized order of McDonald’s fries down your throat, which will only succeed in making you MORE bloated, but at least that insatiable craving for salt will shut the hell up!
Although you have finally received your woman card once your period begins tormenting you, and you want to spin in a meadow like Julie Andrews in The Sound of Music because you’re so damn happy to finally be growing up, it should probably be immediately revoked. This most womanly of things also brings disgusting manly things along with it. What? How? Period poops and toxic anus-burning farts. Never have you had the misfortune of smelling anything so disgusting before.
The best I can figure is that the uterus sets off a nuclear chain reaction. If it’s going down, it’s taking the rest of you with it! Your boobs hurt, your back hurts, your hoo-ha aches, your stomach cramps, and whatever you put in your belly to try to console yourself is instantly converted into the stankiest half-solid poos of your LIFE. For a long time, I thought this was just something that happened to me. Psh. I’m not that special. Period poos is a REAL THING! SPREAD THE WORD!
Those tampon and pad commercials with the chick in a WHITE BATHING SUIT doing a backflip into the pool, and the other chick happily doing cartwheels are filthy fucking liars. A more accurate commercial would be a chick in stretchy clothes, curled up into the fetal position while cramming chocolate and potato chips in her mouth and muttering about cramps. No one with half a brain would ever test fate by wearing a WHITE bathing suit while on their period. That’s just asking for your uterus to go all Carrie on your ass and dump a bucket of blood out of your hoo-ha.
If none of the above applies to you, for the love of all that is holy do NOT rub that shit in other women’s faces. Obviously, we’re crazy, and we will cut you!
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