THE DREAM

An anthropologist in a crumbling city studies the squatter tribes. One day in a drug-market warehouse, she befriends a runaway girl who wants out. The anthropologist invites her to live in her spare room. While they become friends, her husband avoids them, uneasy.

Soon after moving in, the girl starts menstruating unexpectedly and heavily. Bleeds down her thigh. She sniffs, touches, tastes it. Is her period just early from the stress of moving, or does the blood smell like an infection? It's so early--trouble?

The anthropologist's husband walks in, sees her naked and licking blood. He drags his wife in, roaring "She's a vampire! A cannibal! I SAW HER DRINKING HUMAN BLOOD!" Wants to throw her out, arrest her... burn her.

So horrified! It's just blood. Why is menstrual blood so taboo? Yet he won't admit that's what horrified him.

So taboo, the taboo is taboo.

THE WOMB OF THIS BLOODY DREAM

A while back, at a party, a woman I'll call Erin brought up mood swings, cramps, menstrual bleeding. "I have a friend who always cramps and bleeds 8 days a month!" From her tone, we all knew it was her, not a friend--and she was almost boasting. Not martyrdom--more like, "Wow, lookee, I'm sure fucked up!"

So I asked "How much iron does your 'friend' take? How much calcium and magnesium?" Her answer? She dropped her "friend" mask and confessed "I don't take any supplements." Just blames her pain on 'hormones', and lives with it. I was shocked, and said "You gotta replace the minerals you're losing in all that blood! No wonder you ache!"

A guy I'll call Fred later told me he was grossed out, and thought Erin brought up the subject to drive off the men at the table. He adds "Admit it, you were grossed out too! But you hid your real feelings to be politically correct. You faked being a woman."

I'm completely bewildered now. First Erin, now Fred. "But Fred, that was what I really felt! Chronic pain and she's clueless what to do about it... You know my health history, of course I'd identify. And why's that so weird that you won't even believe it? You're comfortable putting your cock inside a woman--so why is putting your viewpoint inside her so taboo?"

Which may be true, I thought later... but I should talk! I have my own Fred inside me too--my own refusal to identify with a group I see as other. I won't identify with other men!

Or at least with Freds. So taboo... to admit to my taboo.

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