How a Few Pairs of Undies Changed My Life

Stains on the bed. Constant bloating. Midol for lunch. Ice cream for breakfast.

Okay, so maybe the ice cream for breakfast thing is just because I hate mornings and Ben & Jerry’s is fantastic motivation at 6am, but everything else is because of my period.

Yes, my period.

I am intentionally, openly, and happily telling you about it. You know why? Because I truly, honestly just don’t give a f**k.

And I also want to tell the world about this new underwear I got and my period history is a necessary precursor. So, let’s bullet point the background info, shall we?

• I got my first period a month before my 16th birthday #latebloomer #sweetsixteen
• I used pads for a day before saying “fuck this”
• I was a tampon user and advocate ever since (I even had to teach a few friends by yelling instructions through a bathroom door on more than one occasion)

But in recent years, I’ve felt uncomfortable holding blood inside my body, scared of risking toxic shock, and freaked out because I don’t even know what’s IN my tampon for sure. They’re classified as “medical devices,” so the FDA doesn’t make manufacturers tell us what chemicals are going in our bodies, like bleached rayon. Friggin BLEACH, man.

I even felt guilty for contributing to unsustainable landfill overflow. According to The Guardian,

“The average woman uses roughly 11,000 tampons in her lifetime. The time it takes for a tampon or pad to degrade in a landfill is centuries longer than the lifespan of the woman who used it.”

All of this, combined with the fact that I hated feeling plugged up, led to me to start coming home at the end of the day and just taking that sucker out. I would put on a pair of underwear that I DGAF about and then let myself menstruate freely. It was like taking off your bra after a long day, AKA: heaven — and I was one relieved little angel.

Speaking of angels, just like Victoria and her undies, I kept this ritual of mine a secret. I didn’t want to make my bloody underwear a topic of conversation, even if it meant finding like-minded women. After all, society taught me that when it comes to periods, mum’s the word. But you know what my word is now? I’ve got two actually:

FUCK. THAT.

Because for the first time maybe ever, I look forward to my period. And at the risk of making this sound like an embedded advertisement (it’s not), it’s all because of THINX.

THINX is a company that makes revolutionary, super empowering, period-absorbing underwear. I’m not kidding, there’s, like, science involved and everything.

And get this, they’re cute AF.

I first came across these period panties on a sponsored Facebook ad, but I didn’t consider buying some of my own until my chiropractor/magic healer/life advisor recommended them.

I’ll be honest, they weren’t cheap (roughly $30 a pair), but the peace of mind is worth it. And when you consider the fact that the average woman spends over $1,700 on tampons in a lifetime, it suddenly seems like three pairs for ~$100 ain’t shit.

It’s an investment, or at least that’s what I told my mom, who, always wanting to support my journey of womanhood, kindly bought them for me.

Sport. Hiphugger. High-waisted.

They came in less than a week, and when the package arrived I ripped it open like a little kid on Christmas morning. I immediately put on a small fashion show for my boyfriend while exclaiming how liberated I felt, and then wore them to bed, despite the fact that Aunt Flo wasn’t visiting for another week.

And now that she’s here, I can tell you that these actually work.

I don’t need anything except underwear; no more forgetting to bring a tampon to the office and having to awkwardly ask a co-worker. Obviously, every woman’s flow is different, but even on my heaviest day I went tampon-free and nothing leaked.

I literally forgot I was on my period. That is, until my uterus turned against me and started stabbing me repeatedly with glass shards.

Like I said, Midol for lunch.

Anyway, now I feel free… from environmental guilt… from dependence on big feminine hygiene product companies… from worrying about what’s going in my body!

I’m stoked on it! But when I told some of my friends (guys and gals) about this breakthrough, I was met with grossed out looks and “Ew, why would you talk about that?”

Um ????????

BECAUSE IT’S AWESOME ????

LIKE

????????????

I deserve to talk about my body and women deserve to know they have options. I refuse to let anyone (I don’t care if we’re strangers or BFF’s) tell me that my body’s natural processes are grounds for repression. I do not accept any shame placed on me for talking about this issue.

If you are unable to handle hearing the word “period,” then it’s time to put down your Chuck E. Cheese pizza (bc I’m assuming you’re in 4th grade) and check your internalized sexism/misogyny.

I’m a motherf**king woman. And guess what? I bleed out of my vagina. We all do. I don’t put anything in my body that I don’t want to — no one should have to. I found a kickass solution and I’m making sure that other women know they can, too.

So thanks, THINX. Or rather, THANX!