by Jordan Berardi

You’ve got to wonder what the first girl thought when she got her period, don’t you? She was probably so worried. She probably said her goodbyes before sitting down and waiting for her life to end. And when it didn’t end after the first day, she was most likely incredibly agitated, thinking, “Lord, just take me now instead of dragging this out.” But then when it was suddenly day five of this out-of-body experience, and it started getting better and injuries were diminishing, she thanked God, saying, “Thank you for knowing I was not ready to die.” She was so happy the sixth day when everything was fine again.

Joke was on her. Twenty-nine days later she’s back on her deathbed.

The confusion diminished as centuries passed, and now we know exactly what’s happening. I knew long before the fateful day came for me.
Rewind to Jordan as a Brownie in Girl Scouts.

The leader said we’d be taking a field trip. I loved field trips.

Twenty minutes later we are in the St. Joseph’s Hospital parking lot and I was convinced we were in the wrong place. Nope.

Ten minutes later I am sitting on the floor criss-cross-applesauce staring at diagrams of “girl private parts” and “boy private parts.” A plush toddler, made specifically for demonstration, sat in front of me. I’m sure the look on my face was priceless. My innocent idea of a doctor’s office being clean, nice, and uninsulting was put in jeopardy. And by put in jeopardy I mean completely demolished.

My days of Dora the Explorer and Lisa Frank stationary was shattered. Now I had to worry about bleeding to death. I had to worry about somehow stopping this phenomenon. I had to worry about “Toss It Shock Syndrome,” which only five years ago did I finally realize was actually “Toxic Shock Syndrome.”

My life was turned upside down.

The reason I chose this topic this week is only because it is long overdue, and I hear people talking about it every day, by the hour. But there’s one thing that’ll never change. The magnitude of uncomfortableness when the topic comes up with or around the male gender.

Dear Boys,

It’s rough to think about, but get used to it. I promise you should just be happy it’s not you. Just let it happen. Roll with it. Deal with the PMS, too. It’ll all be better in a week. And if it’s not…you should consider re-evaluating that friendship.

P.S. Tampon isn’t a bad word.

Yours truly.

For those who are uniformed or don’t know the facts, I have found some nicknames for your period. Now that doesn’t mean you should name it. That’s just weird and many would question your mental stability.

1. Aunt Flo

2. On the rag

3. Red sea (if we’re talking about seas I’d definitely bring Dead Sea into the mix)

4. Crimson tide

5. Riding the cotton pony (OH MY GOSH!)

6. Little red devil

7. The curse

8. Tom ( Time Of the Month)

9. Painters are in

10. Mother nature’s little gift