Every man knows when Aunt Flo is in town.  Our wives, girlfriends, daughters, mothers, sisters, aunts and female cousins tend to let us know when their period is late or early or about to arrive. But we damn sure better not mention when the Scarlet Queen walks in the room and we hope she doesn’t stay too long.   

Men have a visitor as well, call him Uncle Tears. And he comes over twice a month.

My 17th therapist had me track my emotional cycle and like Aunt Flo, my cycle tracks the moon:  full when full, empty when empty. Fairly simple, and so I don’t plan social events on a new moon. I barely go outside. Uncle Tears and I curl up together and hang out for a few days.  

I know a few guys who get punched by Uncle Tears once a year, lucky bastards. Other guys scream and cry while lifting weights once a day. And some dudes I know use tears as lubrication while masturbating, reliving their failures and break-ups while bemoaning their solitary status. Men confront this masculine emotional outburst differently but sooner or later, ol’ Unc is comin' for ya. Figure the more I practice, the easier it gets. 

Which is why I start my day off with morning tears instead of coffee. It’s my way of purging pent-up feelings and stress. Or a way to alleviate the worry and regret of parenthood. Or the pain of childhood. Or the hatred of a cruel boss. Or the heartache of jealousy.  Because the practice of emoting daily makes it easier when Uncle Tears shows up for his bi-monthly visit with a bag of self-pity and a box of self-loathing.  

We are our own worst enemy, and Unc knows it. He's fucking exhausting but guess I should be happy I’m not doubled over in pain from Cousin Cramps and bleeding out my genitals.

Commercial break:  (I know it’s a tampon ad, but this is a hilarious vid about Aunt Flo. But seriously, try a Diva Cup instead . . . nice site to help you find your “Goldilocks cup”.)

From my very limited point of view, menstruating seems like a small price to pay for the ability to create life. Maybe that’s why men are so damn controlling. We can’t give birth and so try to control women’s bodies, through law or deed.  

I certainly have no opinion here as a male author writing about a woman’s period.  Once, I suffered in the jungles of Costa Rica for several days with a ruptured appendix. I think menstrual cramps are pretty similar. All I know is that Aunt Flo can be a real bitch . . .

           and by that, I do mean powerful and sexy. Which reminds me of a particular fetish, one that involves men getting close to the process of creation: 

They’re called “Pussy Vampires”, guys who like to go down on a woman while they’re menstruating. Whoa, sounds like an Emo-punk band!