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  • Shi S

Blood on the Bench


I grew up in a household where women were the predominant voice. I would often sneak around with sanitary napkins and tampons and pretend to use them. I did not understand the science behind it but I was intrigued by the idea of getting my period. As I waited, other girls in my school started their periods. They would often tell the teacher that their cramps were unbearable and many times they were sent home. I would become jealous and wish that my period would finally come. Most girls in my school started their period when they were 12 or 13 but I didn’t start mine until I was 14 years old. The day it finally came, I was sitting down on a bench on the side of the field where we had our physical education classes and noticed a wet feeling in my private area. Keep in mind that my school uniform consisted of a white skirt and a white button down top so it was very easy to tell if it was stained. I had never had this feeling in my private area before so I became concerned and got up to go ask the teacher if I could be excused to the bathroom. When I got up, I heard a girl scream saying that there was blood on the bench. So I looked back on my skirt and realized that there was a red spot on my school uniform. Apart of me was freaking out but the other part of me was relieved because just like the other girls, I finally got my period. At that stage in my life, I did not experience any pain associated with my period, but as I got older that changed. Nowadays when I have my period it’s like hell on earth. I feel excruciating pain in my lower abdomen and in my vagina. Along with this pain I experience migraines and mood swings. Unfortunately, during my period, I’m the mean version of myself. I become agitated very easily and also impatient. I often feel like crying even when there’s no reason to. I am also very unproductive when I’m on period due to the level of pain and emotional strain that I experience. On a regular day of my period, you’d always find me laying in a fetal position in bed for 90% of the day. Now, looking back at my younger self wishing for my period to finally come, I wish I could go back in time and tell her: “You have no idea what you’re wishing for.”

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