I’m so tired of women bemoaning the fact that “no one ever talks about women’s issues like menopause, hormones, libido, you know… all that shit we’ve been told isn’t “polite.”
Sure… I likely wouldn’t sit down and dish on it at a family dinner … Well, maybe *I* would, but I am not your average bear.
But, here we are… we are amongst our friends, so spill…
Why don’t we talk about this?
I know, for me, it’s because I’m tired of not hearing good answers. If I have to hear one goddamn more time how “every woman is different…” I may lose my mind. We are all very well aware of this. We are looking for your experiences and your answers when we ask the question, not placation.
You know, in not sharing your story with your younger friends, your daughters, your female family members, you are missing out on meaningful connections with them. Imagine the power of sisterhood on that level. Imagine teaching young women that there is nothing to fear.
Don’t get me wrong… I really hate how today feels. I’m angry as fuck for no logical reason, and I’d just as soon punch someone as hug them. But that’s the nature of the beast, is it not? I know this is cyclic. I know that tomorrow or the next day, my hormones will level out again, and I will be back to being a ray of fucking sunshine.
I skipped last month. I’m pretty excited about that.
A. Because there’s no way in hell that I could possibly be pregnant.
B. Because I’m stepping closer to the end of all this horse shit.
All of the symptoms arrived like clockwork, though. The body aches, the cramps, the mood swings, the bloating. It was all there. No better, no worse than any other time.
Except for this salad. I’m angry as fuck that this salad that I bought at the gas station SUCKS!!
yeah, yeah… what did I expect? Shut up.
Now I have to go find something real to eat to wash the taste of disappointment out of my mouth.
Maybe that’s why no one ever talks about it. When they get ready to begin the conversation, they get hungry.
Let’s run with that.