Clearly,I’m not busy enough.busy making $$$$$ that is.
I’m always busy and can always find things to do to keep busy and keep ‘boredom’ only a non-existent state of being. So, here I am about to talk about something that I have deliberated for the past couple of weeks with the other thoughts that have been swirling around in my head.
I questioned if IT would be tmi.<that’s SMS language or textese (also known as txt-speak, txtese for “too much information”. These days of social media,online presence and personal branding (which btw, sounds like a soulless term for Individuation) I find myself censoring myself which is even worse than editing myself.Censoring worse than editing only leads to not saying anything at all and then, well, that drives me miserable. So at best,I am going to talk about what seems to still be a ‘taboo’ or at best it’s personal,it’s private and only to be shared amongst close friends and family.Certainly not the whole wide web…or then again,maybe it’s only MY own hangup?
BUT,it is said, you can tell a lot about a person by what’s on their bookshelf therefore it goes to say you can tell a lot about a person by the things they write and the ‘things’ they post on social media sites such as facebook.Whether we like it or not,we all do it. It’s not so much about being judged or judging anymore because now the new word is ‘Profiling’. I’m not judging you.You are not judging me.We are profiling each other. Objectively.With this in mind, I move on to IT. Make of it, make of me what you will I have to get IT off my chest and out of my brain. I’m sure I’m not the only one out there with the same feelings and experiences.
IT started when I was 14yrs happening in my second year of high school.I had wanted IT so bad.All my friends had IT and when I finally got IT, it was a bittersweet moment now knowing i would have to live with IT for the next 40 something years.It’s arrival came unexpected and at a most inconvenient time,but of course .Changing into my swimsuit for swim class there IT appeared. I quietly told my teacher what had happened and I was excused from class to go home and take care of the situation.I had wanted it so bad but this was embarrassing.All the boys in my class knew what had happened and a few teased me about it too. I made my way home with a wad of toilet paper uncomfortably packed in the crotch of my underwear and called my mother at work to tell her the news.Nonchalantly, she told me there were pads in the cabinet underneath the bathroom sink,(ugh Pads?!) and that I would be fine. Then I got a phone call from my mother’s husband. “Why are you home? Are you sick?” he asked in a teasing tone.
And that was the beginning of my love/hate relationship with IT.
In my 20’s, IT was something i didn’t let get the best of me.
Mind over matter.
I just dealt with IT like a person deals with a cockroach.
It wasn’t until my early 30’s and many,best invention ever!, tampons later that I finally recognized,honored and respected my female Goddess Self. How Awe-some it was to be connected to this reverential mystery.To find refuge,mutual support and encouragement under the red tent with a Sisterhood I was deeply a part of that male counterparts would just never,ever understand. I was female.Hear me Roar!
The monthly back pains,the monthly cramps,the monthly sore breasts for water balloons begging to be popped,the monthly diarrhea and/or constipation.
Regardless,Yeah,it’s great to be female and at one with the moon.
I am female,hear me howl. Owooooo………. I was so into being my female Goddess self I participated in The Vagina Monologues at The St.Lawrence Centre for the Arts performing the piece,The G Spot, to a packed house of kunta lovers,activists and supporters of ending violence against women. It was a time of coming into my own,being comfortable in my skin and an experience I’ll never forget with the camaraderie of fellow female V-day monologists.
A long time ago a friend told me about Depo Provera, a form of birth control, an injection you can get every 12 weeks that stops your periods and along with it the premenstrual symptoms.I considered the idea for a bit. Wouldn’t it be great to not have to spend money on feminine products? Wouldn’t it be great to do whatever I want,when I want without IT getting in the way? Wouldn’t it be great to swing on a star and carry moonbeams home in a jar?
However, it was birth control and it was a pharmaceutical. I don’t like pharmaceuticals. I always say,”Don’t DO pharmaceuticals,DO drugs;)” so after not a lot of contemplation I decided against it and instead keep on keepin’ on embracing my ‘femaleness’.
Now that I’m in my 40’s things in the menses department are still the same but they are also changing.Hormonal tides and storms have now become part of the mix and I do my damnedest to ride the waves and go with the flow.
Did I mention? it’s great to be female.I can cry when I want to.I can cry when I don’t want to.I can cry because I feel sad for no apparent reason.I can laugh hysterically at things that aren’t funny, and I can get angry for no sane reason at all. I can feel all this in a matter of minutes and chalk it up to all part of the journey for being wondrously homo sapiens sapiens.
Ok,ok,so I’m embellishing.It’s not THAT dramatic or constant or even that severe,but it is maddening knowing that I can’t control IT or kill it like a cockroach when it rises from the incomprehensible depths of my being.
Ya,whatever, I GET IT! I GET IT! .I’m female.I’m a girl.I’m a woman.I’m a sister.
Now that I get ‘it’,can IT just go away now? NOW!
My moaning and grumbling thus far is not about penis envy by any means.I’m glad I don’t have an appendage that dangles from my body.I’m glad I don’t have genitals that have a brainless mind of its own and can embarrass the artistic merit of a puppeteer.
Did this blog post make you laugh? Then maybe THIS will too.