I have a serious peeve about guys who are squeamish about menstruation.
I have some stories to share on the topic, some relevant, some barely on topic:
When I first began menstruating, and the first time my cycle coincided with my mother’s, my mother and I made what we called “period prints” together. We would squat, pantless, over a piece of fresh white paper, and sit, leaving a bloody print featuring the impression of folds of skin and curls of hair. Sigh, a tender mother-daughter bondng experience.
Still here?
My mother gave me my print, in a frame, a couple of years ago. (Now, I’m not as odd as you may think. I don’t keep it on my wall. I laughed when I unwrapped it, and it lives in a box somewhere. We’re not uterine-fluid worshippers, just women with a healthy regard for a natural process.)
Next story:
At a bar recently, among friends and brief acquaintances, I pulled my wallet out of my purse and didn’t notice that a tampon had flown out with it and landed on the floor, but a guy I vaguely knew did. He discreetly whispered to me that I had “dropped something.”
I turned to look, and, seeing what it was, and finding his embarassed discretion amusing, exclaimed loudly: “OH MY GOODNESS! I DROPPED A TAMPON!”
Next story:
During a recent sexual encounter, after having told the gentleman that I was menstruating, I was amused to be told emphatically that I could not be “on top.” It seems the lad was concerned that I would flood his loins if I had gravity to help me. Notwithstanding the helpful barrier which the diaphragm provides (works both ways, god love the little thing!).
(And this is a man eager to try anal sex. Hmmm. My ass, but not my menstrual fluid…)
Now, it may be that the first 2 stories distinguish me somewhat from others of my sex, but I just have no patience for a boy’s squeamishness on this matter.
Anyone else?