Well here I am back at the old blogging game. I’m not fully sure why it’s been so long and we can talk about that another day. Today is the start of my little series I’d like to call Cheers to the Diva Cup and my very narrow yet perfectly fine vagina.
So after years of making jokes and being totally grossed out by the Diva Cup I have gone down the road I never thought I would. First, lets just back up and talk about how this all came to be so you can get the full picture into my feelings about the cup and how the hell I now have one.
So being in social services you hear things about things. While working at another agency we had a talk about menstruation things and the Diva Cup came up. I had to google it and was grossed right out. Mostly because I didn’t even use a tampon until I was 30 thanks to all the emotional shit passed down from my mother. Thanks mom. Anyway, I was now use to tampons and then learn about Diva Cups and reusable pads! WTF. I felt all this was super gross as in my book you throw all that shit in the garbage and return to the sofa to eat chocolate during that week. End of story. Also, due to lack of information, I just pictured having to pull out a cup of blood and with my pants at my ankles toddle out of the stall at work to clean the cup. Bloody hands and pants as co workers came in to see me in all my glory. Then came my two phase education. I had begun listening to a podcast called the Crimson Wave that was hilarious. Two chicks (feminists…whatever that means these days) who talked to other comedians about periods. Amazing. Even if you don’t have a vagina you should listen. Anyway, so then phase two happened with 3 other work mates (all female) in a work van. We were talking about periods, as women do constantly btw, and I made a Diva Cup joke. Then it happened. “I use a Diva Cup!” My holy grail! My unicorn friend! A real live person I personally know who personally uses a Diva Cup! Now, when this kind of thing is announced in a van that smells like homeless people the questions begin to fly from all sides. “Are you crazy? Does it hurt? Is it gross? Do you use it at work?” So calmly in the parking lot at work my Unicorn explained to us that the Diva Cup can be left in for 12 hours, hadn’t leaked for her and she didn't have to wear a pad to bed. It all sounded so good. No more trying to smuggle a mega pad or tampons to the bathroom. No more trying (usually unsuccessfully) at work to get a tampon in the right spot with one leg of your pants off and foot on the toilet. Some of us have some extra bumps on the road…just sayin.
Anyway after asking questions for 20 minutes we left the van smelling like homeless people ourselves with a new outlook on life and our lady parts. Not to mention I was now seeing my friend differently. She was not a hairy lesbian with picket signs, cats and a vegan diet because “meat refers to eating dick.” She was a semi normal married mother of two who didn’t like to wear underwear. What is not to trust really? So without others around I asked my Unicorn all the questions I could think of. She was able to answer every question without an angry environmental man hating reason. This suddenly became something I could possibly get into…me.
So needless to say in the next weeks it was a conversation had many times in the office and privately. To diva or not to diva. Then I had sex and remembered that my lagoon of mystery is not made for a large swimmer. So to speak. After that I had the odd second thought but ordered my very own Diva Cup from the Amazon. Despite hearing they are available both at shoppers and the granola homeopathic store. I will walk through shoppers with two packs of pads and 4 chocolate bars but would rather ride a cotton donkey to work then be seen in public with the big pink Diva Cup box. I can only imagine playing the inflated price at the granola homeopathic store and having the girl behind the till talk about the universe and how much she loves her Diva Cup. “The stars and universe told me to use the blood in my plants. It’s very special to me.” Lame ass.
So we waited. Waited for my next period after my Amazon delivery of the Diva Cup. It was it advised that I do a dry (literally) run before my period which I didn’t do. If I’m going in then I am going in when it’s needed. Thanks to my order of the Diva Cup my Amazon is now recommending a selection of cat toys and sad movies. Thanks Amazon for that. Anyway, yesterday after an extra long weekend of crying for no reason and cravings it happened. My night before period anger! I knew it! I washed my Diva Cup and put it on the edge of the shower ready for the morning. Sure enough, after my morning poop I was ready!
*Now would be the time to stop reading if you don’t want to know about the details of my lagoon of mystery and would like to maintain eye contact with me in the future.*
Welcome back you filthy friend.
So back to where we were. After my poop I get in the shower ready to use this thing. Remembering the directions I make it into a C or a U depending on how you want to be facing it and give it a shot. Side note of things you should know about me. My back kills in the morning and I have really short arms. Even with a leg up I could not bend far enough with my morning back to get into the right spot. Also all I could here was my Unicorn’s voice saying “you have to relax your vagina.” Don’t tell me to relax! Needless to say... I was not relaxed. So I walked away. After 2 tries I did what I had to do and left the shower ashamed at my vaginal failure.
So my day went on as normal. Period aggression, chocolate cravings and my one day a month unnatural attraction to men. My back got more limber and by the time I got home from work I had to have a shower. My new hair cut had made me feel relaxed and ready to wash off all the little bits of hair. So back in the shower I gave it a shot again. No success and some serious discomfort which led me to text my nurse friend “how do you know if you still have your hymen?” In retrospect I should have explained why I was asking.
So after eating a can of shame food. (Spaghetti and meat balls and a chocolate bar.) (Don’t fucking judge me!) I yet again went to the shower to give it a shot. I used a very soothing low tone to let my vagina know it was cool to relax, chill out and just be cool. I should have hummed some Bob Marley. Anyway, after 3 tries it worked! Well, it was in and not feeling like I was going to die.
As I am writing this it has been almost 2 hours. I have gone for a walk with the dog and thought about twirling. Thus far we are all good. I don’t know about the trauma of emptying this thing but as far as I’m concerned I am signing off with a cup in place and the granola lesbian gods smiling down on me.