A Letter To The Woman In Whose Body I’ve Lived in For 38 Years, From Her Period
By
November 10, 2017

Dear Woman,

WOW! I can’t believe this day is finally here. In the blink of an eye you went from an adorable adolescent to the least sought-after demographic. For nearly four decades, I gave you everything I had: cystic acne, horrific mood swings, cramps that could sideline a cow, and a craving for Birthday Cake M&Ms. But you gave me much more in return. I learned it’s pointless to engage with Congressmen who believe in Eve’s original sin, and that a man who isn’t unhinged by used tampons in his trash is a man worth keeping. 

I wasn’t a perfect period. At times I took my frustrations out on you with a flow as mighty as the Nile and as disturbing as a Darren Aronofsky movie. Yet through it all, I always loved you.

Today is the next step on your journey and I’m so excited for you. Do you recall when you were little and pretended to be invisible while spying on your brother Steven and his friends flipping through Playboy? Well now you are! I see the strong and wise woman you’ve become but no one else will. In your prime, you worked twice as hard to earn 77% of Brian’s salary when you were both accounting directors despite your three years’ seniority. Remember when he made partner? Good times. Now you’ll need graduate-level statistics to figure out how much you’re getting screwed. If your brain’s whiplashing estrogen levels make this impossible, no worries. You’ll be replaced by a millennial with her own podcast and 75K Twitter followers any day. This is all part of God’s plan.

Change is rarely easy: You’ll never get another pimple, though sex will become as exciting as a Slip ’N Slide in the desert. Time to focus on new challenges. Those pink beanies won’t knit themselves.

You’ll have questions along the way. If you can’t decide between a third cat or spending $400 for Hello, Dolly! tickets, let Elizabeth Warren be your guide—she never whined about the dying of the light or the sunset of her bikini days. The Lady Senator went bravely into that cold dark night of irrelevance and wrote a New York Times bestseller on financial management.

I can’t wait to see the path your life takes, which timeshare or cruise club you’ll join. You’ll find your tribe. The friendships you make now will sustain you through years of ungrateful grandchildren and iPhone updates.

Lastly, my beautiful woman, know that I forgive you for each time you called me Carrie At The PromMassacre At The Y, or Shark Week. You are not to blame for internalizing society’s fears. My deepest wish is that one day you’ll think of me with the reverence I deserve as the source of life and not just a reason for blowjobs.

Saying good-bye is hard for me too. I’ll forever savor the memories of lying on the sofa together binge-watching Friends. I leave you with one final gift: 50 years of Helen Mirren 1967-2017 Gold Collection DVD Box Set—the patron saint of  menopausal women the world over.   

With all my love always,
Your period

 

 

 
 

The Higgs Weldon is a humor website with funny stories, articles, cartoons, and one liners. It was started by the Los Angeles stand-up comedy community, but takes submissions from everybody. Please read and enjoy our jokes!


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