Women have a secret. Maybe it’s not a secret because truthfully everybody already knows about it, but we pretend it’s a secret. We try not to talk about it, pretend to ignore it, and get highly offended when someone actually verbalizes it. The secret takes a hold of our bodies…our minds…our hearts. The secret is; PMS is real.
PMS is a naturally occurring phenomenon that allows Mother Nature to congratulate us on not being pregnant. It’s the pre curser to the reality that once again you escaped baby jail. It should be a joyous time complete with balloons, party favors and a celebration! It should be a time to celebrate being a woman and remind us how blessed we are that God created us with the ability to have babies. It should be a reminder that our bodies were divinely designed to take something that is invisible by the human eye and create and grow life. But the reality of PMS looks MUCH different.
Now every woman is different and PMS can manifest itself in a plethora of differing ways. Some women experience anger and frustration that manifests itself in outbursts of rage. I’ve seen women yell at wait staff and annihilate grocery store clerks over what amounts to nothing. Some women experience extreme sensitivity of the senses. They have horrible cramps, a heightened sense of smells, and every single noise bothers them. I have a friend who will text me to inform me that her children are “breathing too loud”. Some women experience deep sadness that manifests itself in lifetime movies, extreme weepiness, Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and a stash of tissues at the ready. And then there are women who experience “the spin”.
The PMS spin is the worst. It feels like someone is taking your emotional well being and creating stew. It’s like you have all of these individual ingredients of confidence, safety, love, security, peace, hopefulness, and contentment and throws them into a pot and starts stirring. Slow steady stirring that makes each individual attribute unrecognizable. The Spin makes me feel like I’m going crazy. It’s a perfect storm of emotional nausea. Things are fine. Nothing is different from last week and yet this week I’m full of uncertainty, a ravishing need for reassurance, and an almost desperate desire to be protected and cared for. I know…I know…even as I type I’m disgusted with myself. And yet, here I am feeling all of these things.
I wish I knew how to control it, how to harness it, how to not allow it to affect me, but I can’t. Today, my kids aren’t breathing too loud, I’m not yelling at grocery store clerks, and I don’t have any cramps. I do feel like I need an almost embarrassing amount of reassurance. Today this normally self assured, confident super woman is feeling vulnerable.
I’m unapologetic about the vulnerability, unapologetic about the need for reassurance, and unapologetic about saying it out loud. For better or worse, this is just a part of who I am. I’m not fighting the feelings today. Today I will reach out to those I love to shamelessly solicit assurance, I will be searching out chocolate, I will be having a glass of wine, and undoubtedly watching some mindless comedy later this evening because it won’t last forever, it’s just for today.