This is a touchy topic but I feel comfortable sharing this with my female readers who’ve been or are currently in a long-term relationship—you’ve been together forever: dating, married, living together—what have you. Woo, let me take my socks off, kick my feet up and nurse this cold beverage as I address this.
So, ladies I’m going to keep it real because I’m hoping I’m not alone. Do you remember when you first got with your significant other? The days when your panties matched your bra? The good days when he courted you and you tried really hard to impress him? You’d wake up before he did to brush your teeth, wash and lotion your face and of course fix your hair. Hurried back to bed before he got up to see your now impeccable face and perfect hair. If he only knew…
Well, that was then this is now and he KNOWS your hair looks like shit after you slept on it all night, dried crust in your eyes and a breath that may make him want to keep tic-tacs on the night stand. Now, he loves you and knows what he’s getting. When shit gets old, pop out a few kids, add a 9-to-5 in the mix; (and if we’re honest) we don’t try as hard. I can guarantee that if you’re a mom; you grab what the fk is at reach; if it matches then great but if not, whateves.
Here comes the fun part. When things are fresh, you find new ways to entertain him when the dreaded Cousin Flo comes for a visit—bringing all her baggage and bullshit with her. Pimples, increased appetite, diarrhea, feeling bloated but to make matters worse we have to wear these ugly period panties. Nothing makes us feel more unsexy than period panties. You’re extra sensitive unlike most days, irritated and it’s often our mates that feel the wrath. During this time, the chances of you taking things he say out of context are 99.99999% possible.
Even though he’s been with you for forever, he can time the shit out of your cycle to the exact moment but doesn’t really understand the way your body works. Sometimes Flo is around for a few days and sometimes she’s there damn near a week or longer. Men don’t understand that if we could evict the bitch without having to worry about pregnancies; we would have done it by now several generations ago.
By day three we’re cramped out, have eaten at least one tub of ice-cream, and have gotten caught up on all our soaps and cried our eyes out at least ten times. Waiting for the final day as Flo drains, snuggled up on the couch with our guy; we think of how special we are to have him until the conversation goes like this.
Him: You done?”
Us: “Done what, babe?”
He coyly rubs on your thigh and kisses you on your shoulder. At this point we’re thinking, is he serious?
Him: “Are you done with…you know?” and gestures at your vagina.
And now you want to karate chop him in his throat hoping his Adam’s apple somehow chokes him!
Us: “Done what? You think I’m writing a fk*n memoir? What do you mean am I done?! I just went on the other day.”
Then the fight began.
At this point, he blames it on Cousin Flo for said attitude? He’s mad and you’re pissed. Whose fault is it really? Are we being insensitive to their needs as our partners or are they truly just jerks that don’t have a clue? Curious minds want to know.When he wants some and asks, are you done? Us: “Done what? You think I’m writing a fk*n memoir? Click To Tweet