Do you think of your “time of the month” as a separate person? I’ve come to think of her as my “FRENEMY” or my “ENAMIGA”. Someone I need to deal with because I have no choice but I hate with every fiber of my being. By the time you’re finished reading this you’ll be putting on your bulletproof vest, picking up your weapon (a la Sucker Punch) and joining my side in this longstanding war. Although, I’m sure most of you are already on my side of the battleground.
Over the centuries and millennia “she” has been known by many names: Aunt Flo, the Crimson wave, my period, estar en regla, and on and on it goes. In my personal war has “she” has become Nessa, there’s a reason for this name, and maybe someday I’ll share but not today. Today it’s all about her.
I hate Nessa. La odio con toda mi alma!! I know she does good things for me and is probably a necessity for me to stay healthy and, you know, live, but I don’t care. I also know that I can’t blame anyone else because it’s a normal bodily function but, being me, I need to blame someone. Someone has to pay for my pain, suffering and mental anguish (wait, can I sue her? I mean, if a guy can sue God maybe it’ll work. I’ll have to keep that on the back burner). So, to keep my sanity and to save myself from cursing . . . myself, I have come to think of “Nessa” as a separate entity from the rest of my physical being.
Nessa has made me suffer the worst pain and torture I’ve endured in my life. I mean my life is complicated enough!! Why does she need to bother me at the most inconvenient times?! All those times I was going to the pool and oops I can’t, it’s that time of the month. Or all those embarrassing moments when I was still learning trying to make everything is in its place so there are no mishaps and then they still happen. All the times I would sit for long periods of time (like, the school bleachers or in the classroom) and I finally stood up and felt that “whooshy” feeling (don’t pretend you don’t know) and I swore that I had stained my pants and everyone knew what Nessa was doing to me. Only to then run to the bathroom and realize everything was fine there but now I’m late for my next period (ha ha) class. Oh the horrors I’ve endured because of that chabona!!
And my husband has the nerve to say to me “Es solo una vez al mes”. ONLY ONCE A MONTH?!!!! Que que?!!! Do you have a death wish?! How would you feel if once a month you felt like someone was pulling one either side of your body as hard as they could without actually pulling your arms or legs off?! WAIT, isn’t that how they used to torture men in Medieval times? They attach a rope to each limb and there’s a horse tied to the other side of the rope and the horses start running in separate directions. Yeah, dismemberment. At least those men were lucky enough to actually die. We have to do this every month. How would you feel if you still had to go about your day while this is happening? What would happen if men got periods instead of women? I’ll tell you what, our species would die, because men can’t handle it. Men are weak, yes I said it. Get mad if you want. Doesn’t matter, it’s true.
Oh and honey, you’d better sleep with one eye open tonight because I might just strangle you in your sleep and not a single jury would convict me. Why? Because I didn’t do it, Nessa did. Wouldn’t it be great if that was a valid legal argument? (maybe it already is!) Like a kind of split personality (please tell me I wasn't the only one who saw the series Heroes, remember Jessica and Nikki?) “I’m sorry, judge, I didn’t mean to beat him to death with the frying pan, I blacked out and Nessa took over.” Or “I’m sorry, judge, I didn’t mean to repeatedly back my car over him, I blacked out and therefore am not responsible for what Nessa did”. I would totally win that. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE my husband but we’ve all been there and if you say you haven’t you’re lying. It’s true.
Anyway, I hate “her”, she sucks!! She can’t get her cycle together, she screws with my hormones, she’s messy and she makes me sick!! And can she please send me a memo about when and where the heck she’s going to screw up my life?!! On Tuesday, while I’m in the office? On Friday, before I’m supposed to leave on vacation?! On my wedding night? On the ONE freaking weekend I have to go on quick getaway with my husband and have wild jungle drum beating sex?! When?! When?! Just tell me when!!
And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I became pregnant!! At first it was wonderful because I didn’t see Nessa for more than nine wonderful, glorious months. But when labor came around I remember alternately cursing her and my husband. They were both at fault for my pregnancies, not me!! I hadn’t had anything to do with the process. How dare she (and he) put in me in so much pain and discomfort?! Of course, I couldn’t blame the babies either; they weren’t at fault for this unspeakable agony they were making me suffer. So I cursed “her” and her damn “wonderful” abilities to make the “miracle of life” possible. Dumb miracle.
So now, I’m going into my thirties and I am done with childbirth. I mean, seriously done, I even had my tubes tied!!! So now the question becomes why is she still around? I’m done, go away now. There’s no good reason for you to be here! You have outlived your usefulness. All you’re doing right now is pissing me off once a month or you’re pissing me off the rest of the month reminding me that I’ll see you in a few weeks. I hate you!!
And now that I have 2 girls, 10 and 6, I'll get to deal with them and whatever they decide to call their frenemies. I feel for them I really do, but right now it's about me and my enamiga. I guess I should look at the bright side, she’ll be gone in about 20 years. But until that glorious day: Fight on ladies, fight on!!!!