Mother Nature hates Women?

I’m convinced that Mother Nature hates women.

I’m basing this hunch entirely on the fact that the last time she visited, she left me curled up on the floor holding on to dear life.

When I was 13, I was told I’ll get my special time of the month soon. I was expecting confetti and candy; all I got was cramps, mood-swings and a whole lot of blood. I do realize that I’m not the first woman to complain about menstruating. But I really don’t see how anyone came up with the bright idea.

Well, how do we tell her that she’s not pregnant? Oh I know. Let’s make her bleed out of her genitals and feel every emotion imaginable which will make her cry uncontrollably.

So that’s it then? Periods are Mother Nature’s clever way of showing her disapproval about us not having a baby?

And oddly enough, if you do get pregnant that’s even more of a terrifying ordeal. There’s a life growing inside you that will eventually come out of a very tiny opening. Err…

Now I know where this guy gets his inspiration from

And please don’t even get me started on how period affect our brains. When I’m PMSing, the mere sight of the opposite sex makes me want to punch something. Sarcasm can get me crying and any comment about my hair pushes me over the edge. Even though there’s a part of me that recognizes that this is crazy behaviour, another part starts growling loudly to drown out the voice of reason.

Oh and what’s even more irritating is the fact that somewhere down the line people decided that periods are going to be a huge secret. You are to never bring it up to someone of the opposite sex. In fact you have to force a smile on your face when you’re literally bleeding out of your nether areas. In my country, if I get sanitary napkins I have to put them in a brown bag before taking it to the check-out point. God forbid the cashier should know that I have uterus.

My point is that I don’t know what she was thinking. An email simply telling me that I’m not pregnant would have been so much easier.

I’m just going to go eat a tub of ice cream and cry now.


Originally published at shamilahr.wordpress.com on April 18, 2015.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.