We hate periods around here, don't we?
Exclamation points, also known as the positive lines on tests we like (understanding or course, that exclamations are both for joy and fear). We (or at least I) live for weeks with the question mark, and the vague and hopeless hope that accompanies it (the hopeless hope that whispers that even though H's sperm count is so low, that maybe one of the swimmers was an overachiever and we'll have a small miracle).
But we (or at least I) don't like period. Period.
It's hard to see the period as beginning. Who decided it was Day 1? That never strikes me as right. Science schmience. The period is the end, not the beginning.
I know women who hate their period. As in HATE their period. They give it different names (some really, really funny names) and they treat it as if it is some kind of alien creature invading their body. Not only alien, but traitorous as well.
I so completely get that. For me, in addition what it means (no baby) I hate how it feels. No emotional "feels" either, but the physical sensation of it all. (I'm not going into details. You know what I'm talking about.) I hate the mess, I hate the embarrassment and even more the potential for embarrassment. Oh, Aunt Flo, how could you?
So when I tell you that I am trying to love my period... Yeah. I'm nuts.
It's like this: I have a lump on my butt. (Have I shared too much?) It's not cancerous, or dangerous, or even THAT noticeable. But it's there and you can see it (if you're looking for it) and I wish I could get it removed. And when I'm shoved in a subway with thousands of fellow New Yorkers, my mind starts to wander. About how I'd like to have the lump removed, and maybe some cosmetic surgery in the area wouldn't be bad. About how I'd like to lose weight, how I'd like to reduce my hips by several miles. About how not satisfied I am with my body that aches and creaks and ISN'T PREGNANT.
And then I start to hate my body.
Now, I am going to be a mother (someday). We will either conceive or adopt. And if we conceive, it will be with this body, my body. And I think I will have a better chance of conceiving if I don't HATE the vessel that brings me what the most in all the world. I think I have a better chance of getting pregnant if I don't hate my body. (Call me crazy).
And even if my body never brings me a child.. well, my adopted child will see what I bring to my body. And I don't want to teach my daughters that it's okay to hate yourself. (Even the lumpy, alien, traitorous parts).
So I'm trying to love my body, dimpled thighs and crampy period included. Isn't it great that my cycle is regular! Isn't it comforting that my flow is consistent!
(I know. It doesn't sound so convincing yet. But I'm working on it, and welcome to suggestions).
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Keep working on it. Luckily, you have every reason to love your posts. And a good point about teaching self-respect to your children, and getting the foundations in place for that now.
Bea
I couldn't agree with your more! I've always had a good body image, but over the last year I've started to pick apart every inch. I do it to my husband and he always disagrees (I've trained him good), but he has told me it bothers him when I put my body down. Your post has inspired me to change my way of thinking. Thank you!
Your post made me giggle. I'm guilty of so many of those things. I din't know it was possible to not like your uterus. I do, thanks to my uterine birth defect. Sooo strange. However, I'm trying to embrace it, not in the squishy ewww, kind of way...but embrace it none the less.
It's such a conundrum. I mean, throughout our adolescent years, well meaning older ladies tell us to be proud of our bodies: "think of what only women can do! We can grow a living being in our womb! How special!"
Yea lady? Well my body is broken. So what now?
Good on you for trying to make the best out of an otherwise crummy situation.
Post a Comment