# bitches be crazy There’s no inherent reason that hormonal changes during menstruation would make people angry or crazy...unless the social contexts surrounding menstruation tell that story. If the hormonal change in my body wants me to be free, wants me to go out into the world and shake my booty, wants me to be mated, but society puts me in a cage, I’m gonna be confused. I’m going to react badly to that. Bitches be crazy. If the hormonal change in my body tells me to love, tells me to love myself, tells me to feel the innate wonders of myself, my body, and my spirit, but I am constantly reminded of my low self-worth, and that any worth I desire must be come from another human, I’m gonna be upset. Bitches be crazy. Menopause was a transformational episode in my own biological and psychological being. Not only did it take away the social context that I am less than, but it showed me how much more I was. It wasn’t because I’ve been frustrated that I was less than, it is the story that was told about my menstruation that put me in the space to be less. It wasn’t because I was assigned female at birth that I had no worth if I wasn’t attached to a man, it was the fact that the moment the female process ended each month I slowly regained myself, like a person. Like a whole person. Bitches be angry. The emotions we feel, these hormonal shifts in ourselves that cause emotional change, are not inherently good, bad, sad, weird, or crazy. All of those things are expressed through context of language, culture, and societal “norms“. People who menstruate--yeah, let me say that again and piss off the worst people--people who menstruate. The hormonal shifts don’t have to have that context, but they are learned young. They are learned in our health classes, they are learned in our sitcoms, and through our comedians who rode the red wave to riches. They learned at the foot of our mothers. They are learned in the bathroom sink cabinets where the accessories of menstruation are pushed way back, out of view. They are learned that the elbow of our fathers embarrassment at having to be seen buying such things. Bitches be hiding. Menopause freed me only because I have been caged by the stories that we tell people who menstruate. I’ve been told I am unclean. I am gross. I am unwanted. I am unloved, just like every person who menstruates is told that. “I don’t trust something that bleeds for seven days and doesn’t die." They say and they laugh. Bitches be dying. We are living very close to a time where a person‘s ability to give birth will be their only societal value. Their own desires are not going to matter--if they even do now. If you see the social construct changing into a rhetoric of joy around menstruation, if you see people celebrating the role of "real women", if you see the sanctity of life-giving processes being paraded down the street, do not trust it. Be cautious. They are not celebrating you. They are tightening the binds. Bitches be wary. Always consider: is the story you’re telling yourself one that you created or one that was given to you? Was it given to you out of love or out of control? When you tell that story to yourself, do you feel bigger or do you feel smaller? Do not distance yourself from the processes of your body. Your body houses the incandescent light of you and the world needs that light. Your body and all its workings and variety is the vessel that brings you forth into other worlds. When it bleeds, or sheds, or cries, or dies, your body is part of the clay that builds your being. Shape your presence and your gift. Erect a monument to your spirit. Don’t let the old stories tell you who you are. Bitches be glorious. --- *© H.B. Flyte All Rights Reserved.* [[HBlog]] | [[Logs]] l [[Home]]