Every woman has an Aunt like I do. Uptight upright forcefully peering at you over her pinched glasses who, even though unloved and uninvited, would arrive wherever I lived at the same time for the same number of days every month for years on end smiling maniacally while causing pain and havoc at the most inopportune times ('gonna get my groove on' big date, white bathing suit vacation, form fitting dress up event).
I call her 'Aunt Flow'. And she comes with party favours.
The headaches, the ever present sensation of wanting to puke, wearing stretchy pants because I cannot get into my jeans, unquenchable thirst for water water anywhere, the jonesing 'yo man, you got a Hersheys bar? a m&m?', the unexpected emotional outbursts preceded by swiveling my head 360 degrees while shooting foul language at anyone who dared ask, "Are you okay?".
When younger, while yes hellish, her visits did bring some heaven. Her humor was such that sometimes She would arrive much later than expected knowing her absence would cause a feverish panic, a late night run to any drugstore, some peeing on a stick with the oft quoted prayer ('I swear to God, if You get me out of this...'). And when She laughingly did show, I did breathe (angrily) easier.
Then as I became more 'mature', I finally started to appreciate the gift She had been bringing me for years: the promise of new life. A reminder that I was a supreme goddess who ruled over my kingdom called 'Uteri': the lush, fertile land of milk and honey, honey. As long as my partner was a willing participant, as long as we agreed that it was time to seed, I was ripe for the planting.
I could always set my calendar to Her arrival date. So Her recent unpredictability is slightly alarming.
She gave no notice. Just didn't show up for Her regularly scheduled visit. This set the tone for our relationship from thereon. She would never arrive on time; She started to show up unexpectedly; there was never a confirmed length of time for her stays. Initially, I was thrilled. I could do anything with anyone at anytime. I could go anywhere wear anything at anytime. Freedom! Then the fun kind of wore off. She has been a dependable major part of my life for most of my life no matter how unpleasant. What was I with out her?
And then I grudgingly realized, we are both growing older. But She has been around a lot longer than me. This torturous relationship is one She maintains with many, many others, thriving in our youth, gleefully cackling at us in our middle age, exiting unannounced and unceremoniously during the mature leg of our journey. If She wasn't family, She would be the meanest lover ever.
It is weirdly comforting to know that my worrying is for naught. While I continue to express pseudo-anger against Her and her wicked, wicked ways, I still leave the door unlocked for whenever She decides to drop by. For while I am growing too old for her, I am still young enough to finally appreciate Her visits.
xo,
Fabulously Fourty(ish)
I call her 'Aunt Flow'. And she comes with party favours.
The headaches, the ever present sensation of wanting to puke, wearing stretchy pants because I cannot get into my jeans, unquenchable thirst for water water anywhere, the jonesing 'yo man, you got a Hersheys bar? a m&m?', the unexpected emotional outbursts preceded by swiveling my head 360 degrees while shooting foul language at anyone who dared ask, "Are you okay?".
You would think with an Aunt like this, it would be a welcome relief when her visits became less frequent. The ability to wear white lace panties for instance. But instead of thanking the Gods, when Aunt Flow started to become sporadic and unpredictable I honestly became weirdly concerned.
When younger, while yes hellish, her visits did bring some heaven. Her humor was such that sometimes She would arrive much later than expected knowing her absence would cause a feverish panic, a late night run to any drugstore, some peeing on a stick with the oft quoted prayer ('I swear to God, if You get me out of this...'). And when She laughingly did show, I did breathe (angrily) easier.
Then as I became more 'mature', I finally started to appreciate the gift She had been bringing me for years: the promise of new life. A reminder that I was a supreme goddess who ruled over my kingdom called 'Uteri': the lush, fertile land of milk and honey, honey. As long as my partner was a willing participant, as long as we agreed that it was time to seed, I was ripe for the planting.
I could always set my calendar to Her arrival date. So Her recent unpredictability is slightly alarming.
She gave no notice. Just didn't show up for Her regularly scheduled visit. This set the tone for our relationship from thereon. She would never arrive on time; She started to show up unexpectedly; there was never a confirmed length of time for her stays. Initially, I was thrilled. I could do anything with anyone at anytime. I could go anywhere wear anything at anytime. Freedom! Then the fun kind of wore off. She has been a dependable major part of my life for most of my life no matter how unpleasant. What was I with out her?
And then I grudgingly realized, we are both growing older. But She has been around a lot longer than me. This torturous relationship is one She maintains with many, many others, thriving in our youth, gleefully cackling at us in our middle age, exiting unannounced and unceremoniously during the mature leg of our journey. If She wasn't family, She would be the meanest lover ever.
It is weirdly comforting to know that my worrying is for naught. While I continue to express pseudo-anger against Her and her wicked, wicked ways, I still leave the door unlocked for whenever She decides to drop by. For while I am growing too old for her, I am still young enough to finally appreciate Her visits.
xo,
Fabulously Fourty(ish)
