4 months ago I bought my last 3 packs of the pill. I have been trying to decide the best time to stop the pill, braid my hair and get my wisdoms removed. These were all very difficult decisions. It took me 4 whole days to braid my hair. Nightmare. It will take me 6 weeks to recover from the removal of my wisdoms. Nightmare. And apparently stopping the pill will mean the end of my life as I know it. What?!
I have learnt to become quite good at prioritising. Health + less money in the long run = high on the list of things to do. I wanted to help my natural african hair grow, so I put in braids. I did it myself to save money, last month I had that kind of time. The wisdoms are causing a warm constant pain in my skull but I don’t have 6 weeks in my life to be a silent squirrel. No work no pay. I’m a freelance performer and part-time teacher, there is never silence in my life. Wisdoms must wait.
Stopping the pill. It has been high on my list. Health is always at the top of everything. I am permanently broke because I buy most of my food from Organic Zone. Oh my F-ing god. I envy rich people, you guys get to have everything. I cry when I buy potatoes. Really though, I wipe the snot from my nose as I swipe my bank card. By the time I fish out my coins for the card guard, I am weeping. Ugly weeping. Ya, so health is right at the top.
So I read somewhere that some woman in some country lost her leg from being on the pill. Some woman somewhere else lost part of her brain power. Some other woman lost her appetite for sex, another went mad and so on and so forth. Please don’t take this to be gospel truth. I must admit to being a hypochondriac and I hardly ever finish reading articles that have images attached to them that tell the whole story.
I have made best friends with the entire staff at my local pharmacy. They all greet me and hurry me out the door. I ask far too many questions and talk way too loudly about my vagina and her healthy habits. I bought the one and only mooncup that they had. I asked them to get licences to do pap smears. I asked them to begin stocking female condoms and just generally feel way to comfortable in their space.
I spoke to the nurse about my plan to stop the pill. She looked horrified and told me to just carry on. Those were her exact words, “Just carry on.” So I spoke to the pharmacist and she said that there is a rhythm method but, and then she stepped out from behind the counter. Her belly was so big, I was worried she might pop right in front of me. She laughed and stepped back behind the counter.
So I have been off the pill for a month. A whole month and so far not one of the scary things that I read would happen, have happened. I have not been spotting ( random bleeding). I have not fallen pregnant. I don’t feel like I am more of an emotional mess than usual. The only thing that I have noticed is that I want to have sex all the time. Not too bad. Definitely infinitely better than the horrified stare and “just carry on” words of advise the nurse gave me.
I am so happy to be off the pill. My hormones are all mine. They belong to me, come and go as they please. It is beautiful. I can’t lie and say that I am not absolutely paranoid about falling pregnant. Every time my lover takes off his clothes I want to smack his penis. Why must it make me pregnant? Why can’t it just make me happy? F U penis. But I also love you.
So here I am, a young woman in a loving relationship playing cards with GOD. It is definitely not as bad as I was made to believe. I feel empowered and very much a part of my monthly cycle. I can feel what my bodies does and what it wants. I was unsure before. The pill will no longer be a part of my cycle, will no longer alter or add to or subtract from, my hormones.
I have a desire to know. My desires are hindered in every single aspect except when it comes to me and my relationship with my body. This beautiful, black, living mass of muscle, fat, water, tissue and bone is mine and I choose to worship it. I will make sure to allow it to do and be whatever it wants. One day I will grow a beautiful being inside myself and when that day come, I will loose my shit, re-evaluate my life, collect myself and then learn how to be that new body, that slightly different shape, with different hormones.
It will all be mine, it is all mine and I won’t let any scientist who claims to be doing the best they can for me, change that. So now I celebrate and I wait for my little brown smudge and when it comes I celebrate again.
These hormones are all mine.