Shark Week

I write to you today from the depths of menstrual despair.

“I just got my period! Oh my god, FINALLY!”

That was me shouting to Austin from the bathroom this morning. I’d known it was coming because every single speech at the Golden Globes on Sunday made me cry. I literally spent two minutes tearing up over the fact that Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal are siblings. Not because they were acting cute with each other but just crying over the entire concept of siblings.

Fast forward 36 hours and I’m struck by the horror that is menstruation. In the same way that the reality of death can sometimes smack you in the face while you’re unloading the dishwasher, the realization that women bleed out of their bathing suit areas once a month and aren’t horrified every time it happens can equally shock me when I’m, say, innocently peeing on a day like today.

Granted, the whole whoa-how-weird-is-this-when-you-actually-think-about-it game works on almost every single norm these days due to technology and the general fucked-upedness of the world. Most our lives seem batshit insane through that lens. But I still feel like periods deserve their own chapter in this arena on a very organic, since-beginning-of-time level.

Various women who don't have time for this shit

Various women who never had time for this shit

I remember my 5th grade sex ed teacher telling all of us girls, ears perked and eyes wide, that she thought she had cancer the first time she got her period because no adult had told her what it was. Frankly – I’m shocked we don’t all still feel this way every time the day comes. I mean it’s BLOOD! Are you on my level right now?

Austin then asks:”So when you say you just got your period…does that mean you’re peeing then turn around and see a bunch of blood?” Precious ingenue that he is.


“You’d faint,” I explained curtly.

“Very true,” he responds. And I absolutely believed it.

So let us not forget, ladies, that we are all bad-ass angel queens for quietly putting up with this shocking reality, when I think we might actually have the right to bitch about this terrible horrible thing every day of our lives if we were actually needy like that. Which we’re not.

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