Daniela De Vera captures the belittlement of having everyday frustrations written off as menstrual delirium.
Today, you want to rot in bed and doom-scroll on Pinterest until you magically manifest the life. But, capitalism calls through the blaring of car horns, alerting you that the order of time has struck 7 am, requiring you to work. You are obliged to make your bed because some guy on some TedTalk said successful people make their bed every morning and it is now a national consensus that this is, in fact, true.
You open your windows and make your iced matcha latte, a morning ritual that forces you awake. The fresh air, accompanied by children screaming their lungs out in protest of going to school inundates your senses. In a way, you too wish you could scream and stomp your feet in protest to working in a ‘man’s world’ — you’re just a girl.
You wash your face, brush your teeth, and finish off by doing the clean girl look — a phenomenon where girls make themselves look ‘presentable’ to hide their internal havoc and the cavities of their ‘clean’ persona. This aesthetic usually pertains to slicked-back hair, makeup that accentuates your natural features, and an outfit that says “I have my life together”.
You part your hair in the middle and brush it up into a semi-high ponytail (not too low because you don’t want to look conservative, but not too high because you don’t want to seem too provocative). In the midst of brushing and filling your lungs with hairspray, you notice your middle part has disappeared. You repeat this torture of making sure the part is evident and ensuring no bumps are accounted for. Your arm starts to feel heavy, and the creeping onslaught of pinpricks travels up your arm. Deciding to forfeit an impossible war against your hair, you settle with what you have — a semi-high bun partnered with a few bumps.
The day continues as normal. You miss your train. The next train you get on is now delayed by ten minutes. You go to your tutorial, but you haven’t read the readings or watched the lecture. And guess what? You get asked a question by your tutor in front of the class; a class of people who are complete strangers to you because you never turn up, and the one day you decide to go, this happens.
You go to your retail job afterwards and a customer asks you if they can refund an item, but they have no proof of purchase. You tell them, “Unfortunately, our policy states that we need proof of purchase to complete a refund.” He tells you that this is unprofessional and spit comes flying out of his mouth as he demands the manager. And then? Your manager gives the refund and you look like an idiot.
In the midst of this average day, your boyfriend asks how your day was. You tell him it was horrible and explain what happened in great detail. He says you’re overthinking and that it isn't all that bad. You get angry because he just doesn’t get it. He gets defensive and asks you if you’re on your period. You give up. You say you’re on your period. He says that makes sense and comforts you.
You’re not on your period.
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