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I Need Tampons As Much As I Need Oxygen!
Last month I noticed that I ran out of tampons. But I realized that there was no urgency in me to purchase another box immediately. Truthfully, I was getting a bit tired of the same-old, stick-a-cotton-torpedo-up-my-pussy routine and I wanted a change of scenery, so to speak.
I just started my period, and I thought it would be a brilliant idea to challenge myself to only wear pads this time around.
Wrong. Fucking. Idea.
I didn’t even last 24 hours. I failed miserably. Within the past few hours I had a panic attack and I took three showers because I felt so dirty! Even as I am writing I am cursing myself for even thinking that wearing those gross vagina mattresses were a splendid idea!
I started my period when I was 10 years old. And after years of ruining my panties and finding annoying dried red dots on the back of my pants, one of the most wonderful phenomenons that I discovered as a menstruating preteen were tampons. Those blessed toxic cylinders have been my saving grace ever since.
I still remember when a classmate gave me one to try. I stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes, carefully reviewing the insertion instructions. After what seemed like forever the tampon was halfway inserted and of course felt very uncomfortable, as I was hesitant to push firmly on the…
