TMI Time: Menstruation.

Progress report: Had my exam, finished DA: I and Rise of the Tomb Raider, finally learned how to ride a bike properly (although I barely got away unscathed yesterday morning because people were being dumb), and slowly but damn surely improving my art. Pretty fucking accomplished right now! Next on the list is driving lessons and Spanish school. I really should get around to setting those up, but pesky phone calls are pesky. But among other things—and I forgot if I even mentioned it before—but I’m finally bleeding again!

(from http://sliplock.tumblr.com/post/104305599359/introducing-the-uterus-monster // credits to the creator)

Oh, me, why are you so weird, being all excited about bleeding? For a long while now, I’ve observed that while my periods are regular for most of the year, a random couple of months will be skipped, and I will fret and worry, but then I’ll also forget and enjoy because my back wouldn’t be aching, my head wouldn’t be spinning, and my tummy wouldn’t be bloating. Funny thing is that you tend to miss the small things that you didn’t realize were always there. So last my vagina bled this year was the beginning of May, and not for the next two months. When I skipped a month, I worried that maybe I wasn’t eating right again or maybe I was too underweight, since I’d been eating less rice (a Filipino staple, take my word for it). But on the second month, I shrugged it off and remembered my skips and thought it was probably that non-time of the month.

When I first got my period, I didn’t even know what it was. I just started having weird spots in my underwear, which didn’t bother my mom either, so I just ignored it for the most part. I hadn’t even been taught what menstruation was in school, so I knew next to nothing about it. None of my other classmates mentioned it, and it’s not as if I would bring up the would-be gross thing in my panties. And when they finally did teach us what and how reproductive systems work, I was hella used to it, and it just became one of the many things that I learned, but not from school. Tbh, most of what I know now didn’t come from school, and I often wonder(ed) why we pay obscene amounts of money to an institution that was virtually useless to me. But as a kid who was weird enough on her own, I didn’t bother asking the grown-ups who would have probably either ignored me, or said a pile of bullshit that I would have questioned and contradicted and they would have ended up ignoring me anyway. So, no, my 9-year-old self didn’t think to tell anybody about the red stuff.

One might ask why I am even talking about this, something personal, questionably controversial, and, some might say, disgusting thing on my very public and accessible blog. I’m talking about it because it’s personal, controversial, and strangely disgusting. While the former might not be a bad thing, the two latters aren’t ideal in any situation, and I have no comprehension for why they are. My vagina is bleeding, my uterus is shedding, and my unfertilized eggs are dying. It might also be because I have a strange fascination for making people uncomfortable about the stupidest things, and while I’m not exactly a sadist, it’s both funny and entertaining to see people cringe and flinch when you say your vagina is bleeding. Actually, I think it’s just the word vagina. It’s hilarious.

Now that I’m slightly nauseated, my torso cramping, and my appetite craving the strangest things, I wonder why I ever miss this for the months that I don’t experience it. Have your period enough times, and you’ll find it’s not the most enjoyable thing. But it is an important thing. And since most of the world, the loudest of it anyway, keep telling me and my kind how our bodies are used and why are here and what we should and shouldn’t do, I thought I’d write about how my body is actually mine; my hands are mine, my brain is mine, my eyes, nose, ears, mouth, skin are all mine, the blood that gushes out of my orifice is mine, the cramps, aches, twitches, and pains are all mine. Not theirs. So I will speak how I would like, write what I want, do whatever the fucking hell I think I should, and none of it would ever be their business. So back off.

It is our basic human right to have access to proper medication, assistance, options, and the choice to do whatever the hell we’d like to our own damn bodies. No, feminism is not an agenda, and neither is the LGBTQIA+ community. You know what is? The religion interfering with our bodies’ science, the beliefs stomping all over ours, the customs that end up killing women and girls the world over because of your ignorance.

For all their arguments about how we have a right to life, they certainly don’t let us live, do they? And for all their talk about God’s gift of free will, they spend an awful lot of their hours judging our choices. Damn hypocrites. Shoo, I say.

Happy humpday.


PS: You have no idea how many drafts I had for a blog post, until this topic came to mind and I’m actually happy with it. Sorry if it was a strange one. Life is too short for expected reads.

I [try to] update every Monday-Wednesday-Friday-(and sometimes)Sunday night! I’m always present on social media, @thecynicalnerd on Instagram and Tumblr, @nerdTHEcynical on Twitter and Snapchat 🙂

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