Can we talk about periods for a minute?
-- To any of the men who might read this little blog here (Hi Jeremy!), you're welcome to stay but my feelings won't be hurt if you skip this post and come back tomorrow. I promise to try and not make it about periods.
Remember when you first got your period and you're so excited to join the womanhood gang? That lasts for about a minute until you realize the giant amount of suck you're in for over the next 30-40 years.
And in those early months while you figure out what defenses work best for your body against the Attack of the Red Monster it is a GIANT ball of suck. The cramps and the bloating are the worst.
One particular hellish month when I was a wee little teenage Mochaface, I was at a swim meet when the Red Monster attacked. Given that my relative greenness in fighting the Red Monster, I complained. Probably a lot. Probably thinking that I couldn't POSSIBLY do anything, let alone swim any races, while I was in such hormonal agony.
My mom, being the wise woman that she is, told me that there were some studies or something that showed how women on their periods performed better athletically. (I can't remember exactly what it was she said, but it was something along those lines.) Was she playing me to get me to shut up and focus on what I should have been focused on? Maybe. But I don't know. Nor do I really want to know.
It's something I like to think about from time to time, generally when I defend myself against the Attack of the Red Monster, a much more seasoned warrior and hardly a blip on my radar nowadays. I like to believe in the possibility that the gift that is the source of Life can make us even more special and awesome than we already are.
Silly I know. But then while I can't remember exactly how I did in that swim meet all those years ago, I'm pretty sure I did fairly well. Thanks Mom.