WARNING: This blog is not for the feint of heart.
I don’t take birth control pills. I’ve never taken them. I know, they make life so much easier. But there’s something strange about them. I once got in a fight with a doctor who pushed them on me like drug dealer. “Come on, just do it. EVERYBODY does it. IT’S NO BIG DEAL.” Oh, yeah (five years later)?! But what about breast cancer? Why would the pill have any negative impact? IT ONLY REVERSES THE WILL OF GOD.
I don’t mess with God. Once a month I shack up for three days and hate the world and cry at the sadness inherent in my desk chair. I think there’s a good reason for that. I need a reason to stay home and watch all two season of “The Killing” in a 24 hour period.
But it’s not easy.
I was hosting a show the other night. My own show. That I run. And Aunt Irma came to visit right in the middle of the show. I asked my friend to take over and sat there in mortification. I felt so humiliated. So embarrassed. How many women over the ages have gone through this? It’s not like peeing in your pants. You can’t hold in the lining of your uterus in no matter how hard you try. Heckled by my uterus. But I couldn’t ask her to leave.
I don’t make period jokes. Ever. However, I don’t think I’m the first woman to experience this issue.
Someone needs to talk about it.
Just for today, that’s me.