Periodical

I’ve written about my period before. In fact, I’ve gone into the subject at great length for a guest post on Vagina Antics, which you can read here. But, just for your amusement, I’m going to write about it again and tell you about some embarrassing shit that has happened while Flo’s been on my sofa.

When you first get your period, you have no idea what’s coming. If you’re like me and your sex education was kept to a minimum as a youngin’, you are even less aware of the onslaught that periods have on a young body. The first time I got my period, I cried for an hour straight. I wasn’t at home, and the only thing that people could tell me about this was that I was indeed “becoming a woman”.

Which, really no help at all.

I remember that night, I was watching Big Brother, and the pedagogue on duty (you join the scene at the care home I was in, by the way) chose exactly that moment to come and educate me on the wonders of a period. “So, Jillian, do you know how a period works?”

Of course, I resisted every temptation to say “Of course I do. You put it at the end of a sentence.”

But that was before I knew the wonders of a full stop.

Anyway.

Then, there was that time…. oh God, I dread to think about it. I had a very heavy flow which didn’t correct itself until years later. And way back then, I had no idea when I needed to switch pads. So, I had accidents. All over the fucking place. I spent some time in observation (not for that, obviously), and stained a chair. Said chair was declared “my bloody” throne by the other kids in the group. Keep in mind that I was an insecure eleven year old surrounded by kids who had come from broken homes, had suffered rape and physical abuse and started smoking when they were barely out of nursery. I did not need any poking of fun of something I had no knowledge about.

Sometime later, I was in the bathroom at school, during lunch break. One thing I absolutely dread is when pads fall into the loo by accident. Of course, exactly that happened. I ended up fishing the thing out of the loo and spending the rest of the day frantically cleaning up after myself, using my furry pen holder (it was a Monsters Inc. one in the shape of Sully) to erase stains. It was not a good day for Sully.

The earlier years of my period were absolutely horrendous. I am still enormously embarrassed by leaving stains, not changing pads in time and all the palaver that comes with me being too stupid not to invest in a Mooncup as of yet.

But I am praising myself lucky that Himself is not grossed out by it. Nor is he grossed out by the mood swings and crying that come with the massive hormonal swings.

Bless his little boots.

xoxo

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4 Comments

  1. Of course, I resisted every temptation to say “Of course I do. You put it at the end of a sentence.” I love you!

    And I think every one of us has had those utter disasters. Me and white skirts at school … yeah, I learned the hard way to never do that again.

    I also wish I’d learned about the Diva Cup (or equivalent) about 20 years earlier!

    xx Dee

    Reply
  2. My mother told me about periods aged 8. Not because we were close but because I had swimming at school which meant using the dreaded tampons. Since I was 18 I’ve been on the injection. Not for contraceptive reasons, partly forgetfulness (I can’t keep track and therefore get caught short) and part moodiness (I don’t see why anyone should have to put up with irrational, emotional me).

    I’ve had sex on my period and yes, you are more sensitive, but you have to find someone who’s not squeamish about blood.

    I’ve also had the embarrassing moment of fingers pulled out noticeably rusty.

    I prefer the balance, the certainty of the injection. My sister prefers the pill. My mother champions nature. Each to their own. In the end you have to find what works for you and your partner.

    At the end of the day, women bleed (and go emotional/hormonal) because its their natural time to conceive, men must either deal with (or abstain from) that, or face the consequences.

    Mister sounds like the kind of guy you need. If he understands that, well keep him 🙂

    Reply

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