They All Inevitably Grow Up

Exactly one month from today, my oldest will be graduating from high school. I spent all year (actually the past 4 years, for the interest of full disclosure) mentally preparing for this. As the college offers came in and the eventual acceptances to all of the schools he applied to, I offered insight and advice when asked. I didn’t have to help him decide where he wanted to go: the minute he saw the criminal justice program at one school he immediately knew that was the school for him. It wasn’t the most prestigious of the schools that he had been accepted to, but it met his criteria: it was a small campus, quiet town, and had the programs he was interested in. And he was accepted into his top choice school, Salem State. He considered the closer schools, but UMass Amherst was too big for his liking and the other schools didn’t quite have the program he really wanted. Salem was perfect. Plus, he loved the added bonus of walking around the area of the witch trials. It was in-state, as affordable as college can be, and it made him happy. I supported that decision.

There have been the battles, reminding him to get off his butt and apply for scholarships. Reminding him about other deadlines. Reminding him that there’s no secret trust fund to pay for his college tuition. Telling him to get his scholarship letters to the school. But, it’s been an experience for sure. It was a learning adventure, learning to step back and watch him decide the trajectory of his life. This was his call. If he wanted to find a job and skip college, that would be his call. But he has his grand dreams of becoming a forensic psychologist and helping to solve crimes. He wanted to do his part in making the criminal justice more fair, from the inside. It’s not my job to tell him what to dream; it’s my job to support him where I can.

Yesterday he signed up for his freshman seminar and orientation. It would be virtual due to the pandemic. It made everything so real. I’m happy for him to move onto this next chapter of his life. But it’s going to be sad. You dedicate so many years trying to grow these babies into adults, getting them ready for the real world, that it does become a bit sad when you have succeeded. The most rewarding of sadness?

I’m excited for him to get out on his own. I’m hopeful for him. I have said for a long time that this boy was going to change the world. I was wrong; this young man is going to change the world. Everything he has done until this point was just minor in comparison to what he’s going to be capable of in the future. He may be leaving to college far sooner than I would hope, but he’s ready. I just hope I’m as ready as he is.

The One Time You Were Rooting for a Blackface Scandal

I’ll be the first to admit my overall disdain with about 99% of all “news” personalities. I’m not a fan of anyone on MSNBC. Definitely not a fan of most people on Fox News. The only reason I default to CNN is because they are the least annoying. Meaning, I can make it through most segments with eyerolls of disgust rather than getting enraged at watching what is unfolding in front of me. Don’t tell me any one of them are any less biased than the other. Because I don’t buy it. They all have their agenda that they are paid to push on the viewers. I’m just not dumb enough to buy what any of them are selling. As someone who has aspired to stick to journalistic integrity, when I’m not writing an opinion piece like my blog, I can see the big picture of both sides. My nasty habit of being able to effectively play devil’s advocate is something that definitely pisses off my husband. But it’s a necessary skill if you are going to write something unbiased.

…which definitely won’t be the case today. Because I’ve mentioned a few times on my blog my particular disdain with someone who is so far right that… I don’t even know where I’m going with it. The fact that so many people blindly follow this wildly incapable toddler amazes me.

Recently, social media (particularly left leaning sites) latched onto a commentary by Tucker Carlson complaining that someone stole a yearbook or something and he was obviously getting ahead of the story. I, for one, never thought I would be rooting for a blackface scandal. Maybe that would be the one thing that took down this mediocre “personality” (can you even be a personality if you lack one that didn’t buy you?). I waited, eagerly anticipating it. Not because I thought that his fans would care that he did blackface. Not that I thought that someone like him would care or understand why blackface isn’t great. But because maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have to hear about him again.

Then the Twitter trend #TuckerYearbook happened and I was so excited. I jumped on that, ready to gleefully see that beautiful display of racism. Would he fully dedicate to it as Justin Trudeau did, with full body blackface? Would it just be a dark face? Would he go super racist old school with the blackface everywhere but around his eyes and mouth? I couldn’t wait. Until, it wasn’t a blackface scandal at all.

All the yearbook showed was what any sane person could already see: he was a racist homophobe that never quite grew out of the awkward teenage phase. (Which explains all of the angst we currently see from him.) I mean. Was that a shock? Blackface… blackface takes people down. Admittedly being a racist homophobe when most people can obviously see that already? That’s not earth-shattering journalism. That’s clickbait that raises your hopes for something really good, but only tricking you into clicking 20 pages to see why “Blue is the coolest color.” (It is.)

Call me when we see him in blackface. Otherwise, maybe he’ll just say something so awful that even the people who still somehow watch him will walk away and he can go into Alex Jones oblivion.

But Is It Offensive?

I’ve been noticing a hilarious (to me) trend of people who aren’t offended by anything becoming offended by everything. Everyone finds something offensive that other people are okay with, and (I might get myself into trouble for saying this) for the most part that is okay. I mean, I think in any case there are certain lines that you should never cross, particularly when a slur comes out. But I’m someone who does enjoy some dark, questionable, and sometimes pretty offensive humor. And I think that’s okay because I have lines that I won’t cross and there are things that I do find offensive.

So what makes something offensive? I think it comes from your own personal experiences. I think that everyone has something that they are offended by and those jokes will offend them. I think that everyone is different and there comes a point where there are certain things that you just need to respect. There are some dark jokes that I love that I would never say in front of some people, because I respect their right to be offended by that joke. Just because I find it funny, that doesn’t mean I should assume that everyone else does. It’s called “respecting the line”. And I don’t get offended at my “overly sensitive snowflake friends” because they gasp in horror or just tell me “Yeah, that crossed a line.”

There are some things that I find it to be ridiculous to get offended about. For instance, I think it’s ridiculous when people get mad that some people refuse to go purchase something at a store or watch something on television because of their personal beliefs. It’s call “capitalism” and it’s the basis of our economic system. I choose not to purchase food from Chick-fil-A or purchase items from Hobby Lobby because I find their policies and beliefs abhorrent. That’s okay. That’s my right. If you don’t want to purchase from Target because they are pro-pride, that’s your right. We can choose not to support something because of our belief system. It’s not cancellation; it’s capitalism. Then, those same people refuse to purchase items because they believe that organization wronged them somehow. So, the offended by offense are now offended. It’s a vicious cycle, really.

If I said a joke (and the type of jokes I find hilarious are the ones that most groan/wince at but still laugh at because they are both appalled and find it hilarious) and my friend said “You know, I don’t feel comfortable with that joke”, I wouldn’t say, “Tough crap, grow a pair.” I would say “I’m sorry that you felt offended by that”, then just not say a joke like that again. It’s not bowing down to pressure; it’s being a decent-freaking-human being. I understand that my experiences are different from theirs and that while I may not understand why they found it offensive (or even if I do), it’s their right to be offended.

Now, how does social media play in here? See, I find stuff that I think is questionably offensive sometimes on social media and I do this amazing thing where I don’t start a fight. I don’t report the post. I don’t even say a thing. I just scroll on by. Because social media is a place where people don’t tend to have enlightening conversations that allow people to see another point of view. People go there to pick fights and come out the victor in an internet argument, the type of argument when there are really no winners.

So is it offensive? To some people, something is offensive. To others, it’s silly. And that’s okay. Maybe if we listen to each other sometimes, we can learn something new.

To Pack the Court, or Not to Pack the Court

Normally, I offer a witty anecdote to lure my readers in to care about what I’m writing about. It normally works. Today, I just want to get into the dirty topic of packing the court. This is a concept where one party rams in a bunch of judges “on their team”, a process that ultimately happens when every new president comes into power. Did RBG’s seat get stolen from the Democrats? That’s a loaded question, isn’t it? Now, should they have rushed through a vote as an election was going on when they wouldn’t for President Obama, just because it was “their team”? The answer is absolutely not. Any reasonable person would see that as a hypocritical power grab. But, I would also argue that the Supreme Court is supposed to be the one governmental body that isn’t supposed to have any other side than the Constitution.

So, this topic of now that President Biden is in office we should magically create new seats to pack the court is insane to me. Why? Because if the roles were reversed, the Democrats would be crying at how this is a power grab from the Republicans. Then the other party comes into office, does the same thing, and we are now in a loop of just adding more judges so until we have 1000 Supreme Court justices. Doesn’t anyone else see how ridiculous it is and how both parties should be against this? Packing the courts isn’t the problem; the problem is the lifetime appointments.

There should be term limits for a justice. Maybe they can only serve for 10-20 years. Maybe they only serve 8. There would be no need to pack a court if there is no lifetime appointment. They do their job for a limited amount of time, then fresh perspective and insight gets added in after the term. That’s a logical approach. That’s a reasonable answer to this problem. Times are always changing, so why have a 90 year old judge that can barely think straight make these important decisions that directly impact our lives? Imagine, just imagine, if we truly get impartial judges to serve for their term, and then we just get a new one to replace them. This can be staggered so that there are some veterans on the bench. But, why not avoid the major problems we have no by implementing some type of term limit. (I’m also 100% on the side of having term limits for every politician, in case you’re wondering.)

I’m a big fan of common sense. And court packing isn’t common sense. The logical approach is not to add more judges to the problem, but to fix the underlying cause of the problem: lifetime appointments. That is the wave of the future.

But Wait… First I Need to See What’s In Your Pants

I have always been a bit of a tomboy. To the point that until puberty really hit, a lot of people looked at me and swore I was a boy. Now imagine if just because of that, my parents would have to pay someone to make sure my parts in the pants were checked before I was allowed to put on my cleats and head to left field. Ridiculous, right?

Except apparently it’s not ridiculous because laws that promote trans hate by promoting a violation of their rights are popping up everywhere. I call these laws “Drop your pants and let me see what’s in them” laws. Let’s be very clear here: the sole purpose of these laws are to demean those in the trans community. Or can be used to demean anyone really, since it’s the “accuser” that matters more. It’s kinda like the Salem Witch Trials of the genitals.

I can’t help but to remember when the people who so wholeheartedly stand by a discriminatory law like this will also talk about how wearing a mask or requiring vaccine passports are infringing on their rights. So let me try to figure this out, for my own sake, so that I can better understand.

  • It’s infringing upon people’s rights to force them to wear masks.
  • It’s not infringing on their rights when you force them to have a transvaginal ultrasound to get an abortion.
  • It’s infringing on rights to require people to have a COVID vaccine to enter into certain locations.
  • It’s not infringing on rights to make a woman get a permission slip signed to go through a sterilization procedure.
  • It is not infringing on rights to tell a woman who suffers from severe gynecological conditions that they can’t have a hysterectomy because they are too young and childless.
  • It’s not infringing on rights to demand to see someone’s private parts before they participate in school sports.

I think I got everything covered there. And I have to say, I’m not sure I’m really clear on what infringes on rights. Is it just based on pushing your beliefs on others? Do you just like discrimination and want blatant laws to back that?

These laws are disgusting. Disgusting doesn’t even cover how atrocious these laws are. Any law that is solely there to demean another human being should not exist. It shouldn’t and you really can’t convince me that they do. People all have the right to dignity. And forcing someone to pay so that you can drop your pants to prove a point to hateful people who get their rocks off by discriminating against another human being really needs to take a closer look at what’s wrong with their lives. What if your cis daughter had to do this because she was so godly good at soccer that the other teams wanted to punish her? What’s to stop them from forcing you to put your cis daughter through this? Would you be okay with this? Because I wouldn’t like it for any of my kids, trans or not.

People don’t understand the trans community because they don’t care. They consider this group to be some less than human being. I can’t be a part of that. I can’t support that at all. Transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia… None of these things have a place in the America that I want to live in and raise my kids in.

It’s All Fun and Games Until They Come Home Republican

The point of the title is shock factor. That offensive commentary that people will either dismiss without reading, hate read assuming I mean it, or love read because they assume I mean it. The other day, a good friend of mine posted a meme on social media, which said something along the lines of “I don’t care if my kid is gay or trans or whatever. But let them come home Republican…” I laughed. I laughed because I would have laughed even if the other part of the meme replaced “Republican” with “Democrat”. The joys of being a lowly independent in the middle of the bickering.

But at the core of the meme, I don’t agree with the message. Now if my kid came home an alt-righter conspiracy nut that follows Q, I’d have some issues with that. I’d still love the kid, but holy Jesus, would I not be happy about it. But coming home Republican? Just do you, bruh. At the core of my principles is to just let people be. If they aren’t hurting anyone else and following the law, I honestly don’t care. I don’t care who you love and want to marry. I don’t care if you think getting an abortion is the right choice for you. I’m not gay nor would I have an abortion. Just because I don’t feel morally right about having an abortion, that doesn’t mean my beliefs should be pushed onto others. I’m pro others to have that choice. I’m straight, that doesn’t mean everyone else should be. People just gotta live their lives. What consenting adults do in the privacy of their home is their business, not mine.

I don’t care if someone is a Republican as long as they don’t push that belief system on me. I don’t care if someone is a Democrat, as long as they don’t push that belief system on me. I don’t care what religion you are, you can see the pattern here, as long as they don’t push that belief system on me. There’s enough crap going on in the world than worrying about which side of the aisle the other person is on. Though, I would argue that the fact that people take sides of the aisle is at the very core of the problems today. Why does it always have to be an “Us vs. Them” argument?

I remember one time, someone asked me if I was a Democrat or a Republican. I replied, “Neither. I like to think I’m somewhere in the middle.” The person laughed at me, saying it was because I couldn’t make a decision and wanted to stay neutral, as if because I was a woman that I didn’t have my own opinion. I responded back, “No, it’s because I realize that both sides have great points. When you can see things from another perspective, you’ll see the solutions are always somewhere in the middle.” He laughed at me again, completely dismissing my statement. He said that I had to choose a side.

Why do I have to choose a side? Why are there even sides to choose? Why can’t we just be what we are without having to put labels on it, so that people can organize us into pretty little boxes together? I’ve been very vocal about my opinions about abolishing a two-party system. I think that there should be more candidates debating than just the Republican or Democrats. Up until this last election, I’ve never even voted for a major party candidate. (I still don’t regret my choice, yet.) I’ve also consistently pointed out that they like us better divided because without us coming together, the extremes on both sides are better able to control us and how we think.

We could let this stay the way it is. We could continue bickering for no reason because we are the only ones who lose by doing this. America is the only thing that loses.

When You Just Want to Lash Out

I live in a neighborhood like many others. You have some great neighbors and then you have those inconsiderate ones who make your life miserable. Like say, for instance, they park their car illegally blocking a sidewalk and impeding on your driveway against a yellow curb and leave their car there for days on end. Then cops drive by said illegally parked car and do nothing. Then you can’t call the cops because your neighbors tend to get aggressive and make the neighborhood feel unsafe if you cross their ability to do whatever the hell they want. I’ve already made that mistake once. As my youngest son nearly fell into the car, since it blocks the sidewalk we and the other neighborhood kids use to get to and from school/bus stops, my oldest said “It’s kinda of a cool looking car. It would be a shame if someone towed it.” I narrowed my eyes, angrily, as dealing with people blocking the driveway and sidewalk for the past 4 months wasn’t annoying enough (expletive alert, and there will probably be a few more), my response was: “It’d be a shame if someone smashed their fucking tail lights.”

I wouldn’t actually smash the tail lights, though I’m not sure it’s because I can’t afford the lawsuit or because despite this pent up rage that I have for my neighbors, I was brought up to not feed into these violent and aggressive impulses that I admittedly fantasize about. Such as, smashing an asshole’s tail lights because I’m tired of the B.S. It wouldn’t set a good example for them if I did anyways, and going to jail wouldn’t work for me.

Sometimes you want to lash out. (And I don’t mean to compare my situation to the one I’m about to address.) Sometimes it just becomes too much. You’re tired of seeing these things on the news. You’re haunted by imagery of a cop kneeling on the neck of a guy pleading for help. Criminal or not, that imagery is horrifying and unacceptable and I honestly understand why people are lashing out. They’ve had enough of this madness. I’ve had enough of it. Every time that I hear a story like that or an elderly Asian person just being a random target of a hate crime, I just want to lash out. I want to scream. I do have an urge to cause some destruction because it’s completely normal to want someone else to feel the pain and anger that you do. I don’t mean that I think it’s okay to set the world on fire. But, I mean, sometimes you just want to set the world on fire. Because maybe from those ashes, we can create something better than it was.

If you can’t tell the difference between a taser and a gun, which I imagine has such a significant weight difference, in the heat of the moment, maybe you just shouldn’t be a cop. If you think it’s okay to shoot to kill first and ask questions/answer them yourself later, you probably shouldn’t be a cop. This goes without saying, but if you have any ounce of racism or hate in your heart, you probably shouldn’t be a cop. If you don’t want your douchey Ford Mustang towed, maybe you shouldn’t be an ass and park it illegally. Actions have consequences, some far worse than others. And at some point, people need to pay the piper for their actions.

The point of all this is that sometimes people want to lash out. Sometimes this lashing out is worse than others, just because frustration has a nasty way of just building up until you inevitably just boil over. When people have been legitimately wronged, they can only take so much before they finally lash out. Sometimes it’s by writing angry words in the hopes of inspiring change. Sometimes it’s smashing things. Sometimes it’s taking those risks and actions that they didn’t think that they were capable of because they no longer care about the consequences. Because why should they care about the consequences when no one else seems to/enforces them?

Supporting the Diet of a Loved One

Recently, my husband was put on a low FODMAP diet. Something, that I never heard of before and barely understand now as I’m responsible for shopping, creating a meal plan, and cooking meals around this new diet. Honestly, navigating around nutritional labels is complicated. This is made even more complicated when you have to read through every ingredient on the label. I’ve gotten a bit of the hang of catching more obvious things to avoid. As my Meatless Monday meal failed due to me not fully understanding it yet, I still have a lot to learn. (Got the gluten-free pasta, didn’t remember lentils were on the “No” list.)

My husband is someone who is addicted to caffeine, which he had to give up. Especially his midday energy drink. But, he’s adjusting. It’s probably easier to adjust when his strict wife decided that everyone was going to go through with it with him. Well, at least me. And I’ve planned suppers around his diet, because I refuse to cook a different meal for everyone in the house. I just don’t have the will or the energy to do that at all. I found some great compromises, and even Korean meals and hot wing recipes that are low FODMAP, because I’m trying to make this adjustment as easy on him as possible. This way if it’s something we have to live with for a while, at least it’ll be sustainable.

It’s hard though. I do allow myself just a little more wiggle room than him while supporting him. I stick to it, except due to my own food allergies I’m not giving up certain things like breads. But, everything else is gone. Because it’s important to support a loved one when they go on a diet, for whatever reason. By seeing someone else stand by them and eating the same things that they are, there won’t be that jealousy of “Wow, they get a pizza and I have a salad with barely anything on it”. Then, they cheat on the diet. Certainly the consequences may be more severe in the immediate sense when it comes to a low FODMAP diet, but there are still consequences of them falling off the diet without this support. If it’s not sustainable, it won’t help them.

My husband even told me not to “suffer” like him. It’s not even that bad. I probably have the advantage since I didn’t have to give up “regular” bread. But it’s my job to support him so he can be successful. That’s what you do for the people you love. Things like this only work if they have someone to lean on. And if that means I’m grumpy first thing in the morning because I don’t have my coffee and my husband has to basically carry me to bed at 9:30 because my body just gave out from exhaustion, that’s where we are. I might even have the unintended consequence of helping my weight loss out.

People are more successful on any journey when they have people that support them. Whether it’s weight loss journey or following their dreams for their careers, being the best support possible makes a difference in how successful they are. They are more confident and more willing to go through with it if they know that there is someone in the fight with them. My husband and I are best friends and partners. And with this support, maybe he can quickly feel better. That’s worth any sacrifice in my book.

I’m Not That Kind Of Mom

There are those moms that go all out at every holiday. I don’t judge them. Good for them for having the money, energy, and patience to go through all of that. I don’t think they are any better or worse than me; just different. And that’s okay because we all have our own parenting styles. Some holidays do get more priority in my book than others, for instance the only one that I actually care about which is Halloween. Easter is just another money grab from the candy company, I spend enough on it at Halloween.

By the time Easter hits, assuming I remembered, I’m all tapped out from birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Halloween to even bother with the holidays that I don’t really concern myself with. I don’t make heart-shaped anything on Valentine’s Day, which is honestly another holiday I often just forget about. I don’t turn everything green on St. Patrick’s Day. I don’t even like boiled dinner or corned beef and cabbage. I eventually suck it up and do it, but I don’t like it. This year when Easter hit, I just grabbed whatever was left in the store and made something of it. Fortunately, my youngest child’s favorite candies weren’t anywhere near sold out. The only toys that I could find was sidewalk chalk and giant $12 plushies. Yes, I saw the price, said “No way”, and just grabbed the chalk.

Do I go the extra mile? Half the time I barely think my kids are going to make it out of the day alive. I’m frequently reminding them of why putting random stuff in their mouth is a choking hazard, why you can’t live off of just salt & vinegar chips or chocolate, and other things that I feel like are a more important use of my time than whether or not I spent $100 on an Easter basket. Which I would never do, because I’m also extremely cheap.

I bought the ham. We had a nice low fodmap Easter dinner to stick with my husband’s new diet. We went for a walk and let the youngest run free at the park. We sat outside and let him draw all over the driveway, sidewalk, and front steps with his chalk. I’m trying to teach my kids the importance of the little things. It doesn’t matter the stuff they received. It’s just stuff. Those aren’t really the memories I want them to have. I want them to realize that stuff doesn’t equal love. It doesn’t mean anything. The actions, those little moments, those are the ones that I want them to treasure. Are they absolutely spoiled in stuff and in love? Yes. But being spoiled doesn’t mean that I have to teach them to equate material items and cost of things with how much another person loves them.

I only spent $20 on the basket items. My youngest doesn’t care. He cares that he was remembered. He cares that the Easter bunny gave him his favorite candy. We don’t need to go broke for material things to prove that we love people. We need to remember those little things, like how much they love Reese’s and Starburst jelly beans. How much they love to help make the Easter ham and spend time with their family. Material items are just around for so long, much like the people in their lives. They won’t remember all of the material things. I’d rather make the memories so that they can carry those memories long after I’m gone.

That Quiet Thing We Never Talk About

Last December, I wrote this post about an incident that happens quite regularly for me. Every 3 months, to be exact. I was terrified when I wrote it. We’re taught that these are the quiet things that we never talk about. When we do, it’s in embarrassed little whispers and we feel dirty for talking about menstruation and “female parts”. Something that happens to about half the world’s population but it still isn’t something we discuss. Rather than be open about it, we’re taught to be ashamed of our bodies.

I should have written more blogs about what it’s like to hate your own body because of something out of your control. Girls are laughed at when they stand up for themselves because “It must be that time of the month.” It’s a joke to others and a shameful reality for most. Society tells us to just suck it up. It’s in our head. Every other woman has the same struggle as you do. You’re just a baby that can’t handle that.

I’ve been told by a lot of people to just suck it up. It can’t be that bad. It’s a lonely feeling when you know you’re not alone in your struggles with your female parts but it’s even lonelier knowing that these are the quiet things that we’re not supposed to talk about and there are other people who share your struggles who also remain silent. But we need to talk about it. Otherwise, how many other women are going to suffer in silence because we refuse to admit that we’re not okay and no one is willing to help us figure out why?

As it turns out from some research, there’s actually a term for this: “medical gaslighting” or “healthcare gaslighting“. (I added an interesting article I came across.) This article was actually pretty fascinating as I remember a time when I would plead with doctors for answers, only to have them say it’s in my head or I’m just playing up my symptoms. I wonder if there are no answers because no one cares to look. I mean, these issues only affect about 49.6% of the population so it can’t be that important to look into.

I even remember when I was younger and my mom would fight for me at the doctors. “She’s probably not going to have kids with this problem anyways, so why bother?” is what I remember the doctor saying. I was a teenager and rather than taking it seriously, they just dismissed me because I was potentially going to be infertile anyways and I was just a kid who couldn’t handle the pain. (Spoiler: a few years later at 18, I did end up pregnant with my oldest. 10 years later, I very easily got pregnant with my youngest.) I remember missing out on many days of college because I couldn’t leave the bed. I would get my period every 2 weeks and in those “off-weeks”, I was in the nauseated PMS stage where I felt dizzy and like death the entire time with brain piercing hormonal headaches. The first time I ended up on low dose pills was the only time that I found any sort of relief. Well, for the first year anyways. Then the symptoms came back with a vengeance and I’ve just had to deal with it since. But, the good news is that now I only have to struggle for 14 days every 3 months rather than every month. (insert eyeroll here)

I have given up. I figure that I only have about 10 or 15 more years to deal with it at this point, so why bother? I’ve accepted the fact that I won’t be able to work outside of the house because of these problems, even if this is the first time I’m admitting that this is a major reason for my choice. I’ve accepted that I have to plan my social calendar (after coronavirus) around my cycle. I’ve accepted that my husband will treat me like a porcelain doll during this time because he’s afraid of me passing out in a place where I can’t get help or getting more seriously hurt when I do. That I need 3 heating pads wrapped around me just not to cry in pain because nothing I’ve tried works and at least the heat dulls it a little. The embarrassing things that I have to deal with when it comes to the excessive bleeding. And here I am, flushed in the face that I even wrote this paragraph.

But… stay with me here… what if we didn’t have to suffer in silence because of this thing that we’re raised to not talk about or to be embarrassed about? What if the doctors did care enough to put the time into figuring it out or someone cared enough to research it so there were answers for the rest of us suffering as a result of these health issues? It might be too late for my generation, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fight for the future ones.