Let Us Now Praise Menstruation
Though I didn’t enjoy getting my first period the day we were to leave for vacation up north at my grandparents’ cabin the summer before I turned 10 years old, for many years, getting my period has been a kind of comfort.
1) Good to know that none of that sex was successful! I mean, goodbye Foiled Sperm! Especially the wily ones that slipped free of the condom! Thanks for playing! There is NOTHING like the kind of relief you have after having Sex With Sketchy-To-No Birth Control and finally getting that beautiful red stain in your underpants.
2) Nice to feel like my body was progressing forward, thickening, thinning, building up, sloughing off. Doing it’s business. Nothing was getting clogged or jammed up in there.
3) Nice to reframe all sorts of misanthropic or life-is-pointless thoughts in a better perspective of “whoa, hormone dump” or “guess I needed my carbs.” Not always am I a heinous person with shitty opinions and terrible eating habits.
4) I like the predictable routine of my body. The lack of hunger during the week of bleeding itself. Then the week of nothing. Then the week of ovulating – maybe there’s that clear discharge or some hurty mittelschmirz but usually not. Usually it’s a nothing week. Maybe I rarely ovulate? I don’t know. And who cares, now? And then the week of clumsiness, rampant hunger, irritability, weariness. Then: BLOOD. Oh, right. THAT’S what’s going on. Oh-kay.
5) Such a splendid excuse for not having to do anything extraneous. Instead of me saying, “I don’t want to go out because I’m a hermitty, lazy, introverted dickhead” like I would any other time, my period whooshing out of my nethers enables me to sit on the couch with an authentically bedraggled expression on my face and say, “I’m bleeding like crazy. Can’t we just stay in tonight?”