Note: First of all, get over your feelings about publicly saying and proclaiming the word “Vagina.” It is the same way you would say arm, leg, eyeball, etc. So, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, and more vaginas. Now that we have gotten that over with, let’s dive in!
Subtitle 1: (Assuming that my period was human and not a prerequisite for conceiving little minions).
Subtitle 2: Answering a male friend’s question of what menstruation feels like.
Note: First of all, get over your feelings about publicly saying and proclaiming the word “Vagina.” It is the same way you would say arm, leg, eyeball, etc.
So, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, and more vaginas. Now that we have gotten that over with, let’s dive in!
What a bloody business!
Dear period, I have meant to say this to you for what? Nine years now. I have kept this grudge for so long. However, because I have given my womanly rights to feminism and washed off the dishonesty of my true feelings with the patriarchal “men feel pain too” crocodile tears, I thought I should get these things off my chest. Maybe we could be friends afterward if we can come to amicable and equally satisfying conclusions. Let’s start with the timing and appointments. What’s with you scheduling a meeting about 25 days prior and showing up at your convenience: 24hrs late with a grand entrance? Not only have I canceled my other important businesses like the new white short skirt I wanted to wear but I have shifted some plans around to make my life better. Like scheduling the phone call appointment with my ex or going to braid my hair on the day of your arrival just so that if I were using painkillers for your appearance, I could as well kill two birds with one stone and allow the same drugs to deal with the other pains in my ass.
Second, I used to think that I was indecisive but I give this crown to you. What’s with stepping out of my gentle, loving vagina, cruising down the driveway, into the street, waving goodbye to my body then, showing up unannounced few hours after when I thought you had gone. If you want to go, go, or if you're going to stay, stay.
Third, when you stay, stop bleeping catching fish. I know you got an appetite for causing me pain, but you can’t invite a third party to my house and this bloody business without permission. We already got enough blood on our hands, save the rivers, the ocean, don't kill a damn fish and add more!
Fourth, when David was writing Psalm 23, the last phrase of verse 5 “my cup runneth over” he wasn’t talking to you! Mind your damn business when I’m praying and reading the Bible. Stop running over at the wrong time and in the wrong places. Fifth, if you wanted a job as a shape-shifter why didn’t you join the avatars when they were doing a casting call? On some days you come as a grammatical full stop when I have prepared for a tsunami, and on other days you act like water gushing out of a fire fighter’s hose “tsshhhhh” to put out a burning building, especially when I am just standing up after 3 hours straight of seating. I know that you make me look hot with perky boobs and a smooth face when you are around but baby, I’m not on fire, no need for you to splash yourself around or put me down during your shape-shifting exercises.
Sixth, after all your shakara, it came to my surprise that within the five days of trouble you put me through, you only produce about 14-16 teaspoons of blood in total, something short of 80ml. Without your permission, while in deep thoughts, I have considered consulting God for a compromise with options such as you showing up only one day a month instead of 5-7days. I’ve got it all planned out. People with heavy blood flows will bleed all day while people with light flows can have fewer hours. Angel Michaela knows that I’m still expecting a spiritual trophy for this genius idea because no human or alien that I’ve met has thought of it yet. Not even men have invented the concept or else they would have added their name to the front for copyright reasons like they have done for men-o-pause and men-struation, despite not having any real biological business in both. Imagine womyn-o-pause, doesn’t that sound physically exhausting to pronounce? Oh, you thought I liked the idea, sorry to disappoint, I’m feminist but not like that. Lol. Additionally, I told God, come on, do we need to waste blood if we could avoid you, period? Why not give you directly through some magical transfusion to people in need? There are many people around the world in need of blood, no need to waste so much on some of us that just wanna go commando on some days or enjoy our gentle, loving vaginas without any bloody intrusion. I mean literally. Angel Michaela told me that my deal is still under consideration and it will take a few more planets and centuries before it will get approved if at all it does.
Pending that time, I guess I’ll just suck it up with you. Now that I’ve passed my feelings across, I need you to promise me that you won’t hold any grudge against me and try to punish me by making me search for my period even when I’ve not played around. Don’t play mind tricks on me either, you know that I don't like them. I love you enough to want to have you for the purpose of creating minions but not have you for what you really are: a bloody intrusion. I look forward to having more 21st-century vagina monologues with you, and I hope that my cat and I won’t have to boycott you. I don’t know how we will do it, but don’t underestimate my pussy cat in any way. It has 9 lives and, if you piss me off, we’ll do anything to get rid of you, even if it is temporary; pregnancy considered (when the time is right lol). Best, Oyindamola Shoola Author, Ice Cream Activist, Verified Periologaist, Certified Formationlogist, CNA’s Goddaughter, Feminist, Trouble Shooter and Anti BS Shadist www.shoolaoyin.com
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