For months, I genuinely thought I was losing my mind. Every time my period came around, I’d reach into the bathroom drawer and find half my pads missing. Not all of them — just enough to make me question myself. Did I use more last month? Did I forget to buy a new pack? Was I sleepwalking?
I even accused my sister once when she came over for the weekend. I asked her, half-joking and half-serious, if she had “borrowed” any. She looked at me like I’d grown two heads and said, “Why would I? I have my own!” So that was a dead end.
Weeks passed, and the mystery kept bothering me. At one point I even searched the apartment for signs of… I don’t know, a raccoon with a menstruation problem? That’s how ridiculous it felt.
Then yesterday happened.
I came home early from work because my meeting got canceled. As soon as I walked in, I heard this weird rustling coming from the bathroom — like someone hurriedly shuffling things around. Then I heard my boyfriend’s voice, panicked and whispering, “Crap, crap, crap…”
Naturally, I thought something was wrong. So I rushed over and pushed the door open.
And there he was.
My boyfriend. Sitting on the bathroom floor like a child caught doing something forbidden. In his hands was one of my pads — peeled open perfectly, sticky side up — and he was pressing it firmly against his armpit.
We both froze. It felt like the world stopped spinning for a full ten seconds.
I finally managed to choke out, “What… are you doing?”
He blinked at me, sighing like he’d been keeping a Nobel-level secret. Then he said, completely earnestly, “They’re perfect for soaking up sweat at the gym.”
I just stared. My brain was buffering.
He then launched into this whole explanation: how the adhesive keeps it in place on the inside of his shirt; how it absorbs sweat better than anything he’s tried; how he didn’t want to “waste them” so he only took one or two at a time. Like he was giving a TED Talk on menstrual-product innovation.
So yeah. Mystery solved.
My boyfriend has been using my pads as armpit sweat absorbers.
I still don’t know whether I’m horrified, impressed, or about to start charging him for supplies.
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only.
