We, as women, are expected to suffer. There’s this code that comes with having a uterus that states we suffer, we experience pain, and we push through, and we don’t complain. We can’t complain. We got shit to do right? Momma doesn’t get time away from motherhood for gynecological pain. The shit still has to get done, and I’m the only one who can do it. Life. Goes. On. I am so sick of normalizing pain, just because historically we have suffered through it. There was a normal, logical explanation for my pain, and I was told I was “fine” I was “perfectly healthy and normal”...until I wasn’t. Sometimes the pain is valid, it is abnormal, and we shouldn’t have to fight so damn hard to prove it.
The goal was to log off Facebook and not log on again for a very long time. I've done the fasting. I've done 30 days here and there..logged out...removed the app, set timers, etc. Like a good junkie, I was right back on it before I knew it. Why on earth would I give up Facebook, such a normalized artificial paradise, you ask?
The news of Chester Bennington's death hit me hard. It hit me so hard that I couldn’t write about it until now. I realize what happened inside me when I heard the news, but it didn’t come to fruition until I found myself in my doctor's office.