It’s confession time: I am probably the only girl in the world who hyperventilates at the word tampons.
I’ve faced some traumatic experiences trying to put in a tampon which has led me to have a deep phobia of them. So henceforth, tampons will be referred to as thing that must not be named.
I can’t handle shoving the thing that must not be named into my vagina for it to get lodged in my uterus which will give me cancer and then I’ll die.
I’ll DIE BRAH.
Ok… so maybe it doesn’t work that way but this is what is going on in my head. I mean but what if man… WHAT IF??
I’ve tried time and time again to use the thing that must not be named, I’ve had my childhood best friend talk to me through it while she stood outside the bathroom door as I hysterically tried to squat to put it in.
I was crying, screaming, trying to breathe through my heart palpitations so I don’t end up having a panic attack.
Obviously, it didn’t go well.
It freaks me out to put things in my vagina that don’t belong. I mean, when it comes to sex, a penis is attached to a whole human being. I can just kick him off, but a thing that must not be named has only a tiny string, if I lose that shit then it’s lost in the uterus forever.
FOR. FREAKING. EVER.
Actually, I lie, I don’t know if it actually is but this is what I tell myself. Did you know that this itty bitty tube expands once it gets inside you? It freaking EXPANDS?
It freaking EXPANDS?
What if it expands so much it breaks something inside me? And if you don’t change your thing that must not be named often enough it can cause other health problems. Screw being normal, I’ve never been a mainstream type of girl. I’m going to stick with my pads for life. These diapers have done me well and I’m just fine.
It’s good practice for when I’m old and senile and have to rock some depends on my more thrilling days. I’m just prepping for the future.
[Gif Source: Giphy]