Of Mice and Menses

by Cherie Wong

The masculinization of my period makes me want to bleed all over corporate America. I watch girls twirl around as their skirts magically become tampons that have white strings for tails like tiny cotton mice. Why do these advertisers think we all want to dance and leap while we are bleeding from our nether regions? Instead I dream about clear blue liquid floating away on the wings of a pad.

Who decided wings were something pads needed? Has anyone in product development every really worn these things? If you’re lucky they stick to the side of your leg, but most of the time the little tabs just bunch up and pull out your pubic hairs. But no one talks about that because pubic hair is off limits. Sure, you can rip it out with your poorly designed maxi pad wings, but you can’t f*cking talk about it, no.

And why the HELL is it called a sanitary napkin?

We have to dance and twirl and be happy about our periods while the blue liquid flows from a test tube because our uteri are commodified. Our bodies are for male consumption, not for bodily functions. Breasts are for ogling, not for feeding. Vaginas are for sex, not for giving birth. But wings are for birds and girls with small thighs. Tampons are for thin, pretty dancers who are quiet as mice. Periods are “that time of the month.” I am bleeding and you want me to be happy?

I am not happy. And even if I am it’s not your business. Why is my body your business? My body is NOT a business.