Like a lot of young girls, I started my journey into womanhood on the wings of a maxi pad. It was thick between my legs, I felt like I was sitting in a river of my own body fluids, and each month, for the longest time, I imagined everyone around me knew I was bleeding.
How could they not? *I* was beyond acutely aware of this fact.
I don’t remember making the switch to tampons, but here I am, decades later, unable to leave the house without a pouch full of a variety of tampon sizes, just in case. These days, I hardly think of the money that comes pouring out of my bank account and into the pockets of Big Tampon (that is, unless I’m raging about the tampon tax).