I believe I have found my soul mate.
She was delivered to me, a little bubble-wrapped bundle of hope and silicone (medical grade).
It was love at first sight.
I heard of the menstrual cup on an online forum. It piqued my curiosity tremendously. A cup inside my ‘hoohoo’ That’s a laugh.
Everyone else seemed to be in mirth too. And by everyone, I mean everyone. The source of their mirth, however, wasn’t the childish glee I was obtaining from imagining cups and saucers stuffed up inside a vagina. To find a comment whose owner’s life was not changed by the menstrual cup was almost as hard as finding a piece of vegetable in the sambar they serve in the canteen.
Now, I am one of those lucky women for whom menstruation does not mean a bloody world war waged in one’s uterus. My PMS too is manageable with comfort food and will power. Yet, menstruation for me has always been a nightmare.
With pads, it was the general mess, rashes and my heart bleeding for the environment. Tampons, while less messy, rapidly turned me into a hypochondriacal obsessive compulsive (I work in an Indian hospital. There are better ways to die than genital TB). Knowing that my memory was extremely unreliable gave minor panic attacks every time I remembered that I had a staph-feed stuffed in me.
I was surprised to find myself wanting to try it, what with me being an ardent believer in Sod’s law and all. It was the above-mentioned dearth of negative reviews that did it. I too wanted to ride the wagon with the happily bleeding women!
So, that’s how I met my cup.
I found it perfect. Almost. Perfect for coming out with flying colours when everything else failed. No rashes, ruined panties or death by tampon.
In this magic land of Internet, there are a bazillion tutorials on how to use the cup. The learning curve is supposed to be steep. I found it very easy. Being familiar with the anatomy helps I presume. Nevertheless, I think a good bit of research and relaxed pelvic muscles are all one needs. The results are worth the patience.
Let’s talk money now.
I spent ₹600 on my cup. For 10 years. Thereby avoiding spending about ₹2,400 per year for 10 years. That’s ₹24,000. And I am not even considering the effect of price rise. Enough said.
Not to mention my giddy irrational joy in telling people about my cup while they quietly despair about the state of my hymen behind confused stares. Take that, patriarchy!
Oh, and the earth thanks me for the next 10 years.
But avast, me hearties!
There are a few minor things to be careful about. Hand hygiene is still very important. The cup should be cleaned and sterilised religiously and stored dry and clean. It is also important to remember to empty it. Which, trust me is very hard. I guess you can say it does the job a little too well.
And of course, an intravaginal contraption may not be everyone’s cup of tea.
Bottom line. No matter what your views on the environment are or what your personal rules of interaction with bodily fluids are. If you are a woman who bleeds, I behove you to keep the squeamishness aside for a bit. Just give it a try. It will change your life. It did mine.