You fucking heard me.

I’m so sick of hearing about “ladies’ holiday” and how we estrogen-crippled humans should rest during this time, avoid intense exercise or ashtanga, and instead do a modified practice which basically involves laying down and rolling around on cushy bolsters like a fucking sloth, and using the rest of your “ladies time” to bake bread, make ghee from scratch and write haikus.

Look if that’s what you wanna do, you rock it. But making geriatric love to a bolster would surely make me feel like shit, so excuse me while I go throw my leg behind my head and do some backbends instead.

Confession: I’m no expert in the human body. But, funny enough, I am a bit of an expert in my own body. Indeed I’ve lived with this here body for quite some time. I’ve seen this body grow a baby and the milk to feed it. Pretty fucking amazing, watching this body work. And while some of this unique, one-of-a-kind, owned-only-by-me body’s how’s and why’s remain a mystery, I’ve done a bunch of experiments on it and I think I know it a bit better than YOU EVER FUCKING WILL.

Come to think of it, where does all this friendly (yet shoved down our throats) womanly advice come from? Does it come from a culture that LOVES women? Indeed, is there a dominant culture that worships women and celebrates the fact that a woman’s monthly cycle means she is fertile, powerful and sexual as fuck?  What’s that? No? Do I instead live in a world where female circumcision, slut shaming, menstruation taboos and sexual repression all exist? A world where in Western Nepal, girls are forced to sleep and eat outside during their ladies’ “holiday” (not exactly the Club Med kind, is it?) A world that reveres a VIRGIN mother? A world where we’ve taken the power denoted by this monthly time, which is really just a part of ALL TIME and negated, silenced and crushed it into a claustrophobic realm of shame, mockery and Godawful “feminine” commercials featuring women traipsing along a beach?

Don’t get me started on how this “advice” gets delivered to women like we’re all the same. Haven’t you noticed that we humans (females included) are like snowflakes? I had a male doctor tell me once: “you know, I’ve never had a period so I don’t know what it feels like.” How motherfucking refreshing. But come to think of it, I am a woman and I don’t know what any other woman’s period feels like. Indeed, when I am forced by some cruel twist of fate to watch “feminine” advertisements of any sort, I am like what the fuck is this? I have no fucking clue what a cramp is because I have never had one. And Jesus Christ, I WISH my breasts would swell.

Bottom line, in my experience with ashtanga the practice is taught individually. So why all the sudden are all women treated the same and sent to grab bolsters and bakeware or straight into bed (if not forced outside into sheds)?

I confess that since Ashtanga is a six-day-a-week practice I’ll often use this “holiday” as an excuse to do other things like ski all day or climb (sorry, if you’re baking bread I won’t be joining you but save some for me, ok?) But god, sometimes I regret missing practice because my body (remember, I know it better than you) likes to move and twist and backbend, and practice makes me feel better not worse. Sure, I modify at this time like I modify whenever shit comes up depending on how I feel. I’m not inclined to stand on my head for two minutes during this monthly time anymore than I would be when vomiting or suffering from a concussion.

But five fucking breaths in forearm stand ain’t gonna kill me.

You want to help me during this monthly time? You wanna support me? Put the fucking bolsters and your presumptions away. Instead: Don’t drive below the speed limit. Feed me a turkey burger. Don’t make me sit still. Take my kid off my hands for a few hours so I can do whatever the fuck I want, and while you’re at it– fight for paid maternity and paternity leave and affordable child care, make a meal for a new mom, offer to babysit, take female sexuality out of the closet, give the internet a day off from constantly judging what women do or don’t do or look like or how women go about their lives and mothering and all that because for god’s sake Kim Kardashian is naked all the time just get over it and for fuck’s sake

DO NOT VOTE FOR DONALD TRUMP.

But no, you don’t want to get your hands dirty; instead you just gonna sit there and order my presumed dirty little self to rest? (little side note, have you ever ordered someone to relax? Does it ever fucking work? Even my husband doesn’t like it when I order him to make out with me). Hey, you feel like shit then you crack out those bolsters and you rest ok? You do you and I’ll do me (or does that not apply anymore, when we’re talking about anything that has anything to do with female sexuality?) and, with all my love and respect,

FUCK OFF.

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If you do feel pain and need rest, take it. For a wonderful piece with advice for modifications and rest where needed during this monthly, please check this out.