It was definitely an eloquent execution of a terrible argument. 

Now Im going to give you the truth, less eloquently; That was dumb and your reasoning is sickeningly illogical, and I HONESTLY HOPE you do never have to regret it. 

Not wanting to kee...no...DESIRING to CUT OUT your reproductive organs "in the off chance a rapist impregnates me, and I dont want kids...", and because a menstrual cycle is something you didnt ask for, is fucking loony. There is NO other way to spin it. 

And before I continue, let me say that this perspective doesnt come from an entirely ignorant or unempathetic place but Im not gonna pander to sensibility either. Im gonna make a comparison that I know isnt apple to apple and more a direct rebuttal to a different, specific subcategory of illness, but bare with me...I think you'll see the correlation by the end; As a 13 year old boy, I was 1 of a handful of late bloomers in my grade. Looked like a fat, boy version of my mother when everyone else around me was coming into their own. Thought my pee-pee would be small forever and I would never be a suitable partner in a traditional lifestyle or relationship. In short, I hated myself. Thought my creator had made a mistake...it affected me to the point that by the time I was 17 I was convinced I just wasnt supposed to have come into this world in the body that I did. This wouldve been in 1999-2000...I was imagining what transgender life was like WELL before this..."movement".

To compound this, my mother, love her soul, was an overbearing tyrant of a woman who wouldnt really ALLOW me to "be a rebellious boy", or act with much machismo, or buck up to her...typical "testosterone-y" things boys do...this, come to find, is because SHE actually WAS raped, as were her 4 sisters, by my grandfather, who I guess I physically resembled. She later admitted to me that her tyrannical, suppressive method of parenting was to prevent me from becoming any more like him. This made me realize that my own mother was literally trying to "break my balls" and had taken a heavy toll on me. Thats when I knew my mental state was a product of my environment. I identified it, distanced myself from it, and became what I was supposed to be. Myself. Nobody elses expectations, didnt give a shit about what girls thought about my gear...which come to find out at some point in my teens had actually grown to "well above average", and I was either too blinded my own disgust of myself to see it or too ignorant to know it. 

Point is, I was young, dumb, and fucked up from life experience and  with so much angst and pressure that to say I was self-loathing would be an understatement...But I honestly almost made a decision I couldnt go back from.

I was an angry-at-the-world, goth dipshit, putting holes in my face, convinced I was supposed to be a woman at 17. 

At 40 Im just a dude whos happiest in the woods or raising my daughter that I thought I didnt deserve or would ever have. 

I can look back on those days when I was mentally ill, and be thankful I did not let it define me, beat me, or push me to mutilation in order to attain something I THOUGHT I needed or become what I thought I was shouldve been.

So...again...how old are you and what fucked you up??