It's sort of like after a break-up when "your song" seems to be played everywhere. A small incision that re-opens the wound. You cringe, feel a moment of deep sadness and then move on.
For me, it's tampons.
Yet again a woman leaned over to me today and whispered in a girls-only conspiratorial tone, "Do you have a tampon?"
No, I don't have a tampon. Because I don't have a uterus. Cancer took care of that. No uterus, no period, no tampon.
I feel a tightening in the back of my throat. I want to cry.
"Sorry, I don't."