Have you read the text thread between a mom and her 13yo daughter about trying to locate
feminine products aisle in a large superstore at midnight?
Ever been there? I know I
have. Under PMS brain, usually
accompanied by a raging headache and cramps, you are out in public in the
darkest, baggiest pants you own wandering the aisles looking for something to
staunch the flow.
You look in the diaper
section, near the Depends, in the lube and condom aisle, by the pregnancy
tests, in the toilet paper and facial tissue aisle – only to find them with the
shampoo or among the baby food. In a store with any sense of logic, it would be chocolate, ice
cream, pain relievers, and feminine hygiene products THEN pregnancy tests. Because if you all of the sudden realize you
haven’t needed the first half of the aisle in a fair bit of time, the second half is the logical
next step.
The condoms and lube should
be at the very end of that aisle, so that men get over their hang-ups and acclimate to the concept of one day purchasing feminine hygiene
products for a woman they love, so that she can remain in the comfort of home
suffering from her menstrual sentence. If they know what's good for them, they should also bring a trashy magazine and something from the PMS food group - chocolate. This would serve to remind them that even if they are getting lucky now, in a few weeks they need to pay tribute. Why do men even have a place in THAT word - menstrual? If we lived in a matriarchal society, it
would be named something positive and grand like biological cleansing,
womenstruation or life flow.
The banter and militant feminism exhibited in the text
reminded me of some interesting anecdotes from my past. When my mom realized I was dabbling in
premarital sex (with the only guy I’ve been with in 30 years, I might add…) she
marched me down to the local drug store’s pregnancy prevention display and
proceeded to explain each and every products use and mechanics so I could
make an informed decision to prevent an unwanted development until I was ready
to support children. She didn’t seem to
notice that an elderly gentleman in the aisle with us seemed to be getting his
jollies while listening to her educational speech on spermicides and sponges. Ten
years later, when I had a 2.5 year old and she saw a pregnancy test in my
grocery bags, the stunned glance from the toddler to my abdomen spoke
volumes. But that's a whole nother story...
With an 8 year span between my sister and me, I was in my early 20 and dating the man
I eventually married. We went grocery shopping with my sister, then in her
teens. Not only did my boyfriend walk
down the feminine product aisle, he noticed that my preferred brand was on sale
and picked up two boxes. My sister could
have fainted. Our dad refused to walk
down that aisle of the store for years and would always send one of us to
retrieve “the lady products” when KOTEX appeared on the grocery list. This became the litmus test for her own
boyfriends and potential spouses.
After 2-3 years of throwing away pants, panties and taking
towels with me in the car and to visit others homes due to hemorrhagic cycles,
I had an endometrial ablation. And
WELCOME to menopause… you can wear white pants, but you’re going to sweat
through them… not all the cause for
celebration one would think. Between the
night sweats, the hot flashes, weight gain, skin issues and mood swings; if
your white pants still fit after all that, wear the F*** out of them.
Our boys were very young when my system stopped requiring “monthly
lube and oil changes”. They thought tampons were fun to launch through the
house. We used them on occasion for nose
bleeds in karate tournaments. Maxi pads were kept in our Cub Scout first aid
kit to staunch the flow in the event of a severed artery. But for the most part, their experience with
feminine products was a thing of the distant past. Then the puberty talks in junior high reared
the ugly subject again. “Mom, why don’t
we have tampons or maxi pads in our house?”
“I don’t need them anymore. I
keep 3 in the bathroom cabinet in case your guests need any. Can I show you where?” Once they knew that they were for female
guests and were no longer play things, the discussion stopped. They were just getting bombarded by the puberty
subject – menopause was something way beyond their security level.
When we shop in drug stores, my sons’ comments, “How do you
choose from the plethora of options in the fem hygiene aisle? A whole wall!
It looks overwhelming.” It
is. There is a video that gives men the
opportunity to experience an “overflow day” and their sense of empathy is much
different after having that experience.
They are far more compassionate and grateful that their anatomy doesn’t
just inexplicably bleed for any length of time.
If men had periods, they’d be called something fantabulous. Art would abound glorifying its power. They would compare volume, color, stench and
saturation rates. It would become a competitive sport more than likely.
In a matriarchal society, red would be a badge of
courage. Red would be powerful. Red would be a symbol of fertility, maturity
and a force to be reckoned with. It
wouldn’t be a taboo, an embarrassment, hidden, spoken of in whispers and
euphemisms. Embrace the power. You might as well have a handful of Oreos, a
dose of ibuprofen and a soda, while you are at it. Won’t menopause be great?
Link to the text thread I mentioned in opening:
http://www.refinery29.com/2016/09/123057/mom-daughter-tampon-shopping-text-messages
No comments:
Post a Comment