Every Woman Bleeds – One More Reason to Love Meghan Markle

I’ve always been offended that I have had to pay for feminine products. Meghan Markle – the lovely new princess or duchess or whatever she is – is now giving us one more reason to love her. What do these two sentences have in common? I’ll tell ya….but, here is the article.

I will summarize – she is taking on women’s periods (not literally), their menstrual cycles, and saying we should make these things mainstream, for a variety of reasons. Basically, she is saying that menstruation is a normal, natural thing and it should not be treated with shame and secrecy. But, to make that vision more prescient and topical, she takes it further. She wants to educate us on the menstruation situation across the globe. The sad sick thing is – not all women have access to supplies or relief from the symptoms.

I have been buying period products since I was 20 and moved out of the house. The first time I bought them, I remember being irritated. Why do I have to pay for these? This is just one more thing women have to spend money on that men don’t and they have us over a barrel – we have to have them. Why are they so expensive? Why are we so embarrassed by it? Why do we feel shame or embarrassment when we have to purchase them? Why when we are miserable and lying around feeling gross and in pain, do some of us have men who won’t go to store for us to restock? Or who make stupid jokes? 

You would think that women would be revered for dealing with this messy, smelly, irritating and painful process. If it weren’t for women doing this, we wouldn’t be able to exist. And exist in a similar environment for around 10 months. It’s icky, I admit. But we don’t do it – it just happens.

I for one – am going to join the lovely expat on her crusade. Back in the halls of the the girl’s Catholic high school I attended, we sang: On the rag again. I just can’t wait to bleed on my pad again. Sung to the tune of On the Road Again by Willie Nelson. I would like to say I wrote that, but it is doubtful. Sorry, Willie.

Women bleed. Because they didn’t get pregnant (lucky you). Every woman is different. Some bleed a little. Some bleed a lot. Some know when the bleeding will start. Some don’t know until someone tells them they have had an accident. Some women are crippled with pain. Some are not. Some have other symptoms (irritability, exhaustion, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, bloating, rage) some have none. My periods changed over the course of things. They started out violent. And got better. Then worse. And then worse until I had seen the last crime scene in my underpants (I wish I was funny and witty enough to have written that. Do yourself a favor and check out No Strings Attached and watch the period scene. Hilarious). Anyway, I fought that bitch (in surgery – hysterectomy) and I won. One of the best decisions I have ever made, by the way.

We are all different. Just because your mom and your sister didn’t have my same symptoms, doesn’t mean they I am not having them (damn that x of mine). The very last thing you should probably ask your woman if you suspect she is having a hormonal time is, “Are you having your period?” All women within earshot will think your a douche and want to take turns kicking you in the balls. 

Just a little more education – tampons of any kind go inside; pads of any kind go on outside; there is also a cup thing http://divacup.com/how-it-works/how-it-works/ that is inserted to catch flow. Most recently, period panties.

Tampons: different sizes based on heaviness of flow. Different applicators to insert based on preference.

Pads: different sizes based on flow. Sometimes women wear both tampons and pads. They may use a variety of variations depending on situation.

Period panties are interesting – you wear them, bleed in them, rinse them out and wear them again. My daughter wasn’t interested, but maybe I will try them for bladder incontinence when I get there. I’m laughing hysterically, even if you are not.

Cups: I had heard of these and admit they just sounded gross and ick. I don’t like any bodily fluids – shouldn’t they just stay inside? Anyway, I did a little research and found out these might not be such a bad option. Cost effective and environmentally friendly. Hardly gross. Especially when you consider what my own mother used: rags safety pinned to her panties. Because these products have not always been available for women. And, I guess, they still are not. Ms Meghan Markle Married to Diana’s youngest – has found a cause that we can all benefit from.

I really couldn’t write this blog and not include my story. The day I started my period, my mom sent my dad to the store to pick up stuff for me. I turned about 8 shades of embarrassment. Absorbent pads didn’t always have adhesive, ladies and gentleman! My dad brought me home belted pads. And no belt. This is hilarious now, not so ha ha then. For those who need more explanation, go here. You should know, belted pads are making a comeback.

As shocked as I am that I wrote this long about periods – I would like to add one more thought. Bleeding through your clothes so that everyone can see that you are on your period has always been shameful. I have seen articles in women’s magazines making fun and showing pictures of women who were caught off guard. These articles were written for “humor” – not funny. Why are we shaming women for anything? I’m angry and she’s lovely. She will win this battle. Great choice, Harry.

 

I Never Can Say Goodbye

As I write this, one of my friends is preparing to bury her father. One had to fly out of town unexpectedly to do a welfare check on her father – he had died in his home. Another spent last weekend cleaning out her dad’s house to ready it for sale. One cancelled our girl’s weekend because her mom and stepfather are failing and could go at any time. None of this is funny – unless I say something like “the common denominator (seriously – a math reference? Do we even teach those anymore?) is me – stay away from me or your parents will die. Which really isn’t that funny.

I am pretty sure it is because most of my friends are around my age – which means it is just a timing thing. My blogs have become a little farther apart as surrounded by all of this is not happy at all. Just because death is a normal part of life and all that crap, doesn’t mean I have to talk about it all of the time. But, since I’m thinking it all of the time – it is all I can write. Bleck. At least I stopped writing about the ungraceful things that happen to us as we age. (Just because I stopped doesn’t mean I am done.)

I have always hated goodbyes. Always.

I don’t like to say goodbye on the phone – funny – I must have learned that from Dad – it used to drive all of my friends and family nuts – Dad would just hang up the phone when he thought the conversation had come to an end. Seriously – a few friends have admitted to me that they do everything in their power to try to make him say goodbye. My sister and I just laugh about it. We also laugh about the things he does say. Like once, he ended his conversation with me like this, “I still love you.” She and I giggle over that all of the time. Sometimes we say it to each other. The sad part is, that tiny joke will be lost in a few generations. Maybe he didn’t like goodbyes either.

I don’t say goodbye on the phone, either – but I don’t just hang up. I say things like, “I’ll call you. Call me or have a good day. Try not to kill your kids, your husband, your dog.”  I’ve already told you I don’t say goodbye at parties. When friends leave, or when we part – I never say those actual words. I don’t like people to leave – ever. (Okay – sometimes. People who let their kids eat strawberries on my white couch. Or, assholey relatives.)

Maybe I think it is because I won’t see them again. Maybe because it hurts. The friend who is getting ready to bury her father told me she wouldn’t say goodbye at his funeral. She was going to wish him peace and happiness. What a beautiful idea. It doesn’t bring tears the way “goodbye” or “say hi to Mom” does. It is hopeful, it is positive. And, not only is it a great way to not say goodbye – it is a great thing to wish for yourself and the others left behind.

You never know when someone’s words will enrich your life. It happens to me all of the time.