Icon by @ThatSpookyAgent. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. BlueSky: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. The X-Files. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
tampons/pads marketed to young kids who just started getting their periods
should be a thing
wrappers with dinosaurs and planets and glitter and cats and sea creatures
make kids feel comfortable about something natural that happens to their bodies.
and for goodness sake
don’t sexualize it
No. Actually. Why do you need this? You don’t. Getting your period means you are starting to mature, which means you need to drive them AWAY from needless things like that. Also, you all bitch enough as it is about paying for these things, imagine how much more money companies will charge for those things? Or, maybe EDUCATE them, so they will already feel comfortable about it. Jesus fucking christ.
Tell that to ten-year-old me, who still hadn’t had the period talk yet in school. I was crying and freaking out because I thought I was dying. Then my mother comes up to me and says with a smile “You’re becoming a woman!” I didn’t want to grow up yet. I was ten. Fucking ten and was told to start to grow up. My mom wanted me to get away from silly little kids things because I’m fucking bleeding out my goddamn vagina.
Also some people are children at heart and like to be silly and having a dinosaur-patterned maxi-pad would be pretty fuckin’ hilarious and I’m sure there’d be a huge market for that.
Not all people with vaginas are stoic and serious and want the same frilly, swirly boring-ass pads and tampons.
Plus if you’ve been having a miserable day and say you bought the character variety pack of pads. Sitting in the bathroom stall wanting to stab everyone and you open up some baby dinosaur pads. You’ve got dinosaurs in your underwear. No ones gonna ruin your day now.
U by Kotex has these, Tween pads. Sparkly box, cute designs on the pad and wrapper. There are even “period facts and myths” in each box, and the inner wrapper has instructions for how to use a pad properly. What’s more is they are smaller than standard pads. (I use these pads because I’m a petite person). Best part? Everywhere I buy them, one box of pads is less than $5.
^^^^^^^ THESE ARE THE BEST BTW. VERY SOFT AND FUN AND COLORFUL. DID YOU KNOW THAT EVEN SEEING PRETTY COLORS CAN LIFT YOUR MOOD? I DIDN’T. NOW I DO.
BUT REALLY THESE ARE THE BEST OK
BECAUSE WHEN MY TEN-YEAR-OLD SISTER GOT HER PERIOD SHE WAS SUPER SCARED BUT I GAVE HER MY PACK AND SHE’S LIKE THIS LOOKS KINDA COOL AND NOW SHE THINKS SHE’S SO AWESOME AND COOL BECAUSE SHE WEARS COLORFUL PADS WITH SHOOTING STARS AND HEARTS ON THEM AND SHE’S SO CONFIDENT IT’S SO AWESOME
SO YOU TRY TELLING ME THAT SEEING A TEN YEAR OLD GIRL DEPRESSED AND ASHAMED OF A NATURAL BODY FUNCTION IS PREFERABLE TO SEEING HER SHOWING OFF HER UFO AND SHOOTING STAR-PATTERNED PADS TO HER BFFS
YOU WOULDN’T GIVE A FOUR-YEAR-OLD BOY A BORING BEIGE BAND-AID NO YOU’D GO OUT AND BUY THE HECK OUTTA THOSE SPONGEBOB AND TOY STORY SHITS BECAUSE IT MAKES THEM HAPPY DON’T MAKE YOUR GIRLS GROW OUT OF THINGS THAT MAKE THEM HAPPY BEFORE THEY’VE EVEN LEFT ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
Ok but U by Kotex has got all of our backs. This brand dose great and empowering things for all women and even girls :)
Why are people with vaginas expected to be grown ass adults at 10 but people with dicks aren’t expected to act like adults until their 20’s??
I got my first period when I was 12 years old on fucking CHRISTMAS DAY!!!
Seriously, fuck anyone who tells young menstruating girls it’s time to “grow up”. That scared as fuck 12 year old girl deserved a nice Christmas.
Nine years old. Thanksgiving.
I needed dinosaurs.
11 years old, 5th grade. I was also told over and over about how I was becoming a woman and that terrified me. I needed dinosaurs, too. Tbh, I still do.
Many girls get their periods very young before anyone has thought to talk to them about it, and even if they know what’s happening they’re still children dealing with major body and hormone changes.
it’s not about that i know how to do laundry. it’s that when i was four i knew how to fold clothes; small hands working alongside my mother, while my older brother sat and played with his toys. it’s that i know what kind of detergent works but my father guesses. it’s that in my freshman year of college i had a line of boys who needed me to show them how to use the machine. it’s that the first door they knocked on belonged to me. it’s that they expected me to know.
it’s not that i know how to cook. it’s that the biggest christmas present i got was a little plastic kitchenette i never used except to climb on. it’s that my brother used it more, his hands ghosting over pink buttons and yellow dials. it’s that when my work needs cake for a birthday, they turn to me. i get it from costco. i don’t even like cooking. a boy burns popcorn in the dorm microwave and laughs. a week later, i do the same thing, and he snorts at me, “just crossed you off my wife list.” it’s that i had heard something like this so many times before that i laughed, too.
it’s not that i don’t love being feminine. it’s that i came home with bruises from trying to be a trick rider on my bike and heard the word “tomboy,” felt my little mouth say, “but i’m not a boy, i’m a girl”. it’s that they laughed. it’s that until i was sitting in my pretty dress and smiling with a big pretty smile and blinking my big pretty eyes, i wasn’t given back the title “girl”. it’s that until i wore makeup and styled my hair i was bullied; it’s that when i don’t wear makeup i’m a slob, that my mental health diagnosis hangs on the hook of being dressed up. it’s that my therapist sees me returning to bright red lipstick and tells me i am looking happier and i have to explain that i am more sad than i have ever been. it’s that i dress myself in as many layers as i can every time i ride a train because it’s better to be laughed at than harassed.
it’s not that i know how to clean, it’s that my brother’s chores were outside where i wanted to be, and mine were inside. it’s that i would have weeded the garden better than he did if they had just let me. it’s that i am put in charge of fixing other’s messes, expected to comply without complaint.
it’s not that i can’t open the jar. it’s that you ask my brother first every time. it’s that i am pushed into docile positions, trained to believe that my body when it’s strong and healthy is ugly, trained into being less, weaker. it’s that the jar is also science, is also engineering, is also every job, every opportunity. it’s that you laugh faster when he tells a joke, that you take him seriously but wave off me, that when he raises his voice he’s assertive but when i do i’m hysterical. the jar is getting into a car with a stranger as a driver and wondering if this is our last ride. the jar is knowing that if something happens to us, it’s our fault.
it’s that i’m weak and i don’t know if it’s because i just am or i was trained to be. it’s that we need to sit pretty with our pretty smiles and our pretty words trapped pretty and silent in our throats, our hands restless but pretty when idle, our bodies vessels for nothing but a future white dress. it’s that we are taught someone else needs to open the jar for us.
here’s the secret: run metal lids under hot water, they’ll expand faster than the glass they’re around. here’s the secret: when you keep us under hot water, we do more than boil. we expand over our edges. and we learn how to open our mouths, our claws, our screams hanging in kites over cities. just give me a chance. give me a chance when i am four when i am seven when i am twenty-three. i promise i can be amazing. give me the jar. i’ll show you something.
Malia Obama being a carefree black girl at lollapalooza is giving me LIFE
I bet that secret service dude felt hella awkward..lol
i love seeing her like this
Fox is gonna have a field day with this tomorrow
They gonna crucify this baby and I wanna see all these white ass feminist defend her because y'all don’t give a fuck bout us even in the White House
When she comes to Harvard we will be best friends
get it baby girl. enjoy your life
Considering I saw lots of white girls at Lolla wearing two band-aids and a fig leaf, Malia is dressed fairly conservatively. Anyone who thinks this is racy is not paying attention.
“Two band-aids and a fig leaf.”
DRAAAAAAGGGGG THEEEEEMMMMMM! 😂
I love this tbh. We never get to see the girls have fun.
^^ I can’t wait for them to write about how life was like for them in the white house
Hillary Clinton added yet another big name to the list of prominent Republican supporters on Tuesday when Hewlett Packard CEO and former California gubernatorial candidate Meg Whitman announced she will back Clinton over Trump, whom she called “reckless,” a “demagogue” and a threat to democracy.
In an election year filled with anti-Muslim vitriol, some mosques are urging their worshipers to vote in an attempt to make their voices heard. To do so, they’re borrowing a strategy used by African-American churches and organizing “souls to the polls” campaigns.
Many mosques have traditionally shunned politics. As recently as the late 1990s, Muslim scholars were divided on the ethics of voting. For years, it was common for many Muslim-Americans to not exercise their voting rights. But this year, three of Nashville’s biggest mosques are busing worshipers to the polls. The organizers say this is more about demonstrating the importance of voting than providing transportation.
The first sin. Misconception is that Eve was the first to sin when that’s not really all that true.
You see
When God created everything and then Adam. He told him about the tree he said don’t eat of it.
God never told Eve.
When Eve was in the garden being tempted read that section you’ll find something interesting. Adam was right next to her and he didn’t say anything. He was using Eve as a Guinea pig.
Eve bit into the fruit nothing changed she handed it to Adam. And when he bit into it their eyes were opened.
So really the first sin was Man’s passive nature allowing something to happen he was told not to allow happen if he never ate their eyes may never have been opened but who knows.
