Bloody Thing! A rite of passage or a nuisance?

Our plight! The inevitable!

It’s expected. Whether anxiously, nervously, eagerly or with dread every female from anywhere between nine and fourteen years will have to accept that gift from Nature. Some of us are pre-warned, others of us are completely shocked once it appears and yes, a few of us simply take it with no fuss.

That Bloody Thing! It changes our moods, our interaction with our peers, our hygiene routine, our view of ourselves. Many of us want to be left alone, get cranky and annoyed, teary and angry. We no longer hang out a lot with the boys, because our Grandma’s tales would have indicated that “something could go terribly wrong’ if we spoke to boys. Of course we know now that the message was tainted and inaccurate but heeded it nonetheless. Our trips to the washroom/bathroom/ toilet becomes more frequent and is often very, very discreet, shameful even.

My some of us as grown women do not even want our boyfriends, husbands or sons to know or see anything. Mind you, that man is the same man who we lie with unabashed, opening up the most intimate parts of ourselves and that son would have, in natural birth, taken that path to be on earth. This Bloody Thing!

We sometimes become withdrawn, proud, feel womanly and womanish, knowing that we have attained a new status. But then some of are disgusted at its sight, fail to dispose properly, wonder if it’s a curse, especially when we are plagued with excrutiating pains, intense nauseau, severe cramps and other malaise. We wonder when it will take its leave on that day or for good. This Bloody Thing seems to want permanent residence.

Then we are on occasion subject to our pride brought low when the Bloody Thing shows up during a presentation, public consultation or during recess as a stain, drop or large patch. We feel numb, want to sink into the ground, disappear even.

And, and those of us fifty plus unfortunate souls try to come to terms with the extended stay of the Bloody Thing while our contemporaries, and younger kin and kind have parted ways with it.

Is it a badge of honour, a necessary evil, a delightful part of our growth and development this Bloody Thing?

What vibes does it bring you, man or woman as you sit with me in the Garden?