There’s a tampon in my backpack

Yes, I carry a tampon in the pen organizer of my backpack. Yes, I know you can very-well see it during class when the pocket is open. Yes, I don’t give a damn. I menstruate. I menstruate every 28 days just like most women past puberty and pre-menopause. I menstruate just like your mother, you sister, your grandmother, hell, even your beloved kindergarten teacher. I’m not ashamed my uterine lining sheds every time my uterus prepares for ovulation. I’m not ashamed I’ll need to use a tampon to during this process. I’m not even embarrassed when I take said tampon out of my backpack during class for you to see as I go to the restroom to use it. I know you know it’s going in my vagina, and I don’t care. I just wish you’d stop looking uncomfortable every time you see my tampon. Maybe you should just get over it? I have.

This is an entry for the Mookychick blogging competition, FEMINIST FLASH FICTION 2011. Enter now.

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