The relationship with my reproductive system has been more like a horror movie than a warm and fuzzy rom-com: full of mystery, a little depressing, and unnecessarily bloody.
It sounds like the beginning of a Judy Bloom novel, but my period has never been my friend. Over half of my life has been spent with monthly intense mood swings, severe bloating, and cramping so bad I would have to go home from school.
As a preteen and a newly appointed “woman,” I tried doubling up on Advil, spending hours under the heating pad, and eventually was prescribed painkillers by my gyno (i know, right?
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