A post for the menstruating women out there.
I cringed the first time I thought of the idea of shoving a plastic cup in my vagina. But stay with me ladies. I’ve never raved about a tampon or a pad. But I am dedicating a page on my blog towards the menstrual cup. So at least humor me and read. I wouldn’t be eating ketchup or drinking anything red either until maybe an hour after reading this post. Just for those of you with a strong gag reflex. Just kidding, it won’t be that gory.
Anyways, prior to trying the cup, I didn’t seek out a tampon replacement product. I was at peace with shoving a cotton cylinder in me every month. I am a woman after all. But, that area isn’t what it used to be during my prime days prior to Vince and the kids. Vince likes to lovingly use the phrase “it’s like throwing a hot dog down a hallway.” That man. Such a keeper. So, the tampons went in with no problem. But, every time nature called, out came the tampon. I was using at least 4 a day and not because Flo was strong. Maybe I should do more kegels?
I digress.
So, I’m living my life with tampons. Clueless to the alternatives. Enter an impromptu convo with two women who were at my house for a realtor get-together Vince was having. We’re drinking wine, commiserating about men and kids as women do, when the two women start talking about their menstrual cups. At a party.
Call me intrigued. Any time people share that level of detail about themselves, I am hooked. You shove it in you? How big is it? Does it hurt? Does it get all over the place? And, like I said in the beginning, how many people do you know that rave about tampons or pads? No one, because that shit stinks – literally and figuratively. The fact that these women were bonding over their love of the cup had me curious.
A few weeks pass and I take the plunge. It’s awkward, I’ll be honest. The insertion is the oddest part to get used to because you have to fold the cup like a little dumpling, prop your leg up like Captain Morgan, and navigate the little gal in. But, once there, it’s like its not there at all. I go all day with this bad baby in and can’t tell.
And, after strutting around all day like I own the world, I remove the cup, dump it out (blech), clean it with some plant-based soap, and let ‘er dry. Removal isn’t too hard if you have the cup with a little pull handle on it. You do have to release the suction the cup created first though or you’ll be giving yourself an inner-vag hickie.
What I love?
- You go all day without needing to change a thing.
- It’s reusable. Yay mother earth!
- It’s packable – no need to bring 32 tampons on vacation with you.
- You don’t have a smelly crotch.
- It comes in a pretty bag. Because us women love bags.
- No risk of toxic shock syndrome – which is good because I’ve tempted fate with that in the past.
What I don’t love?
- The initial price point. I used to buy store brand tampons so shelling out $40 or so for a vagina cup was an initial hurdle for me.
- Insertion. See above.
- The dumping. Ok, I somewhat like this too. It’s like popping a pimple in that grossly-satisfying way.
And that’s my intricate and gag-inducing review of the menstrual cup. I’ve included a link throughout to the brand I use. If you purchase through the link I receive a small commission, but the opinions I expressed above are wholly mine. Because what person in their right mind would share this level of detail just for a $1?
Menstrual cup for the win! Questions? Send me an email, comment below, or find me on social media.
I’ve thought about trying one of these! But potential sticking point…what if I need to remove it at work? While I’m out, etc? You take it out, pull up your pants, go to the sink and dump it out, then go back into the stall to reinsert? Or do you never have to remove it until the end of the day?
[…] Got questions? Hit me up. Seriously, I will chat about this just as much as I do about my love for the menstrual cup. […]