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I bleed and I am not ashamed.
I am not ashamed of my flesh. I am not ashamed of my functions. I am not ashamed of my process. I am not ashamed of my existence. Should a being choose to alter these things it should not be because of shame but rather because they feel positively compelled to. Empowered to. Truthfully to. I will not let your curled up lip, snarled brow raise, wincing tsk tsk tsk’ing ruin my relationship with myself in order to pursue a relationship with You. It’s ok if You do not approve. I will still do my due diligence to be there if you’re ever in crisis and to contribute progressively to the world You live in so it may be safer, kinder, cleaner.
I remember when I went through a homeless stint, having my period was the worst. I was trying to present as “male by societal standards” to be safer on the streets, however I couldn’t afford pads or tampons when it occurred. I’d use toilet paper thickly bound like a makeshift pad, working Craigslist manual labor jobs and frequently checking to make sure I didn’t bleed through my pants. I felt smelly, gross, unclean and unsafe. One day I did bleed through on a landscaping job and lied that I had gotten a cut on my leg. They said it seemed a lot of blood and sent me to the ER (which I ditched upon drop off). I went home without the days pay and frantically scrubbed out the stain in the sink of a Starbucks restroom (yeah. Sorry to all those customers... I should’ve just asked other people in the restroom for a spare tampon or pad but I was told it wasn’t polite to talk about my period. That it was secret and inconvenient.

I don’t feel compelled to “rub my ‘lifestyle’ in your face”- I know this image may feel like that’s the point. It’s intention is not mockery. It’s intention is a reminder that should I choose to be open about my existence or experience that I CAN do so. That it is not WRONG to do so. That truth is more important than the notion of “being polite”.