Chapter Twelve; Solidarity Period
Dear Reader, One thing I really love about us girls (men you might want to head off and read a Top Gear magazine or something of that ilk for this one) is the unity we have at a certain ‘time of the month’. Our periods are fucking annoying , let us be honest. Often they’re a blessing, some times a curse but always a pain, not in the arse, in the uterus. There is a special kind of crappiness reserved for the way we women feel once a month. Do you know what makes me feel a little better about it?... (Whilst I sit here in my pyjamas, a stabbing pain in my lower stomach as the cramps roll their way around my womanly organs) …There are 3 billion human beings on this planet who understand exactly how I feel. How often can you say that about something? That there are that many women who understand the feeling of being stabbed, REPEATLY , in the stomach with the worlds largest invisible butchers knife. Our periods do not define us, they do not make us women, what makes us wo