Over the summer I was hustling to CVS on a mission for tampons. I proudly strutted to the “feminine care” aisle and chose the cutest, pinkest box I could find. You know the one with the commercials showing the girls playing sports, or rock-climbing, or surfing while wearing all white? Yeah, those super realistic ones? I was ready to engage with their product.
My neighborhood charges 10 cents per plastic bag as an incentive for people to use reusable ones, instead. Being a stereotypical LA yoga/kombucha/Whole Foods enthusiast, I am always more than happy to support the green lifestyle and tote around this season’s hottest granola-y accessory. However, blinded by my dire need for tampons, I forgot mine in the car. So saving my precious dime for a future parking meter, I chose to carry out my tampons by hand.
By the look on the cashier’s face you would have thought I was offering to leave the store carrying a dead body. She squealed, “Oh NO, honey! Please just take this bag, you can have it for free!” I reluctantly took the free bag from her shaking hand, but it made me feel uncomfortable that she so adamantly wanted me to hide my tampons, and that she was doing me a favor in the process. Was she protecting me from the judgment of the guy toting anti-balding cream and a family sized bag of Cheetos? As if.
Tampon-shaming is the new black.
When I was younger, Mother Nature delivered fear and embarrassment every month. I remember panicking when I needed to change a tampon in the middle of class. How was I supposed to sneak a tampon out of my backpack in the secret compartment in the subtle black zippered pouch with the combination lock and say the secret, voice-activated password without drawing attention to myself?
As I have grown older, I have shed my embarrassment, self-consciousness, and the lining of my uterus (too gross?) enough times to give a damn about tampons. Maybe it’s because I am the product of an all-girls high school where tampons were currency comparable to cigarettes in prison. Or maybe it’s because monthly bleeding has lost its novelty to me as a grizzled veteran. Regardless, I am over it and unashamed.
I’m especially curious as to why some guys feel uncomfortable when they see tampons. It’s not like periods are some big secret. Anyone who has taken a sex ed class in middle school has learned about the in’s and out’s of the uterus and has heard enough about the menstrual cycle to make his head spin. Moreover, if you’re uncomfortable just looking at a tampon, try thinking about how it feels to bleed for a week.
I’m not trying to portray myself as a female vigilante equipped with tampons as her weapon of choice. I just don’t think anyone should feel ashamed of experiencing a natural and healthy bodily function. Check your period privilege and stop tampon-shaming.
image via