Serial Monogamist

You always remember your first. I was in Italy and was nervous, but a friend told me about her first time and I felt better. So, I opened up my Tampax tampon, put it in and went on my way. I spent the next several hours on a bus traveling through the Italian alps and every bump was like a punch in the vagina. When we got out at the next rest stop, I asked my friend to run explain tampons again to me and she said, “Put it in and take out the cardboards.” Cardboards – as in two.

Tampax and I worked out our differences and spent a few tumultuous years together but then I met OB in college. We were introduced by a mutual friend and it was love at first sight. I was drawn to its compact package and unassuming air. We spent our days discussing feminism and the patriarchy and our nights drinking cheap beer.

We stayed together for years. Other products caught my eye but I remained faithful. I thought we had something special and then, one day, OB just disappeared. Maybe we got too comfortable. Maybe we grew apart. I don’t know. I searched for OB in all of its usual haunts but it was just gone. I was heartbroken. I cried. I couldn’t believe OB had left me. I kept waiting for it to return but it never did.  Eventually, I realized that I had to move on.

And then…the internet introduced me to the Diva Cup.

The Diva Cup was different and exciting. It took some getting used to but in no time we were dancing and walking on the beach wearing pristine white pants. I declared my love with the intensity a teenager does for the boyfriend her parents don’t want her to see. My friends were skeptical but feigned interest in the relationship because I was happy.

Then, one day, I was walking home from a restaurant and the Diva Cup and I had a falling out. Literally. I mean the fucking thing worked itself right out of my vagina. It was one of the most awkward strolls I’ve ever taken. This time, when I got home, I reclaimed my power and broke up with the Diva Cup.

“You’re an unreliable asshole!” I yelled.

It said nothing.

I swallowed my pride and called up OB. Turns out, OB had been going through a hard time and just needed to work some stuff out. We started seeing each other again and I think I might just get my fairytale ending after all.

About Vikki

Vikki is a bored social worker by day and a mom/writer/pop culture junkie by night. She writes about GLBT issues and parenting at her personal blog Up Popped A Fox and her writing has also appeared at Grace the Spot and Autostraddle. She also has an inexplicable fascination with marshmallow Peeps. Don't ask.

Comments

  1. Megan says:

    *snort*

    Have you tried Instead? It’s disposable cup that you can wear for 12 ours like the Diva. I wish we had them back in the day. Would have saved me a lot of aggravation!

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  2. Jenny from Mommin' it Up says:

    Quite possibly the funniest thing I’ve read all year! Did ob give you a tender apology on Facebook like they did me?

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  3. Britt Reints says:

    I use a Diva Cup and now I am very, very afraid.

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  4. lol! Maybe you need to try the TamWow. I really think it’s the next big thing.
    http://randomninja-writerofwrongs.blogspot.com/2011/10/tamwow-saving-world-one-crotch-at-time.html

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  5. Meg says:

    This made me actually laugh out loud more than once and then the comments had me laughing all over again. Thanks for this!

  6. dianne says:

    Playtex. Detached string. 16yo. Christmas. ER room. Cackling nurses. Emotional scars still visible.

  7. I’m crying…she said a scene from Carrie! rofl…

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  8. HeatherS says:

    You just completely confirmed my distrust of the Diva Cup. It’s very sad when your most reliable feminine products just suddenly disappear from the shelves. That happened to a friend of mine while she was pregnant. Came back and BAM! They were just gone and never heard from again.

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