Yes I said it,
Every month without fail blood spills from my vagina for 3 – 4 days.
It doesn’t gush out as if I have been stabbed; it trickles out of me at unscheduled intervals, held by tampons that are supported by panty liners.
This blood shows without a doubt that I too am a woman, that I have a womb with eggs that need to be recycled.
Each month, for 3 – 4 days I bleed!
And the adverts that run on TV for my protection show my blood as blue, because I am Royal.
I wonder at the shame that is attached to my bleeding, a shame that challenges me to hide my blood. A shame that means I should feel dirty and acknowledge my blood only in secret.
Why do I call my menstruation the period, the red dot, women problems?
Why can’t I take pride in being a woman and bleed with freedom?
Why can’t I use my monthly supply of red ink to claim my womanhood?
Paint cocks and stick figures with my fingers dipped in it straight from the source?
Of course I am!
I am a woman, who celebrates her female form especially the parts of me that are completely woman.
Maybe I love women because all women bleed and the most “shameful” part of my month is celebrated by my woman with no ridicule and need to hide.
Maybe I love women because there is no shame attached to a process that prepares me to give birth to a man that will forcefully try to go back where he came from despite my pleas!
I bleed, so what?!
And by the way, so do all women in this room!
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