Periods. I realised that they were not just dots at the end of sentences or a 45 minutes long class in school. I learnt that the most important period of all was deep red, painful and lasted about 7 days. It had the power to change your life.
Around the age of 10 my breasts started developing and by age 11 I had my first period. At first I could not understand where the blood was coming from. I thought I had hurt myself badly without my knowledge. Then I thought maybe I was dying. I had seen dogs die after passing blood in their stools. It was all very confusing and scary. When my periods started my mother told me only two things 1) here is a pad, this will happen every month so learn to use this and; 2) if you do anything with boys you will get pregnant. (I assume she got similar advice when she had her first period) But she never clearly told me what those things were. I dint know the links. This lack of accurate information along with suppressed guilt and shame about various molestations in childhood led to some really out of the world conclusions about sex and body.
Later on in life I asked my mother why she dint tell me about periods before it happened? She said she was too embarrassed to speak to me about it. I laughed and called her old fashioned, but at eleven I was scared shitless about periods. It had somehow felt like another shameful thing I could not control or prevent. The first of the pubic hairs were also a source of fear and shame. In my mangled understanding; I concluded that they were also evidence of me being the bad girl— For getting groped at and teased and touched by men. I consoled myself by thinking that at least no one else would ever see them.
It took me a few years after my first period to actually get used to the idea of a period. The idea of having to be careful of stains and smells and bulging pads - it was a full time job in a sense. It would be around my 15th year that I finally got comfortable with the whole process to the point where I could casually joke about the whole period thing with close friends. Deep red was not scary every month anymore. It was just another color. Period.
I really like this one - it is clean and direct. Know what? Felt releived to know, that i wasnt the only one who felt ashamed for what others did - and guilt - and self punishment go hand in hand. I got mine bloody early too - compared to the rest - and felt ashamed of it all the time. till everyone in the class started pads too! T.
ReplyDeleteThanks T! i am sure we all have stories like these. I agree with you on the feeling of relief...i can't count how many times i have read something and felt that i am not alone...not a freak..
ReplyDeleteIts true. If it happens in the class, its all the more problematic. Everybody will be wondering why she is sent home earlier than others. Then some boys (if its a co-educated) who know they start making jokes about it. SHE'S READY. The other boys who dont know but are naturally curious go around looking for red spots and often making fun of the girl. Then there is the school cleaning lady, who comes to clean the blood stains. After all this hungama, she comes to school after a week or so to much embarrassment -- sharp arrow looks, cunning smiles and most importantly eyes that look elsewhere. Everybody's face has a question -- WHAT HAPPENED? The point is how will SHE tell, what happened....
ReplyDeleteOnce it did happen that my periods started while i was in after lunch english class. i was in terrible pain with a huge stain on my skirt. i went down to call my other from the telephone in the principal's office. to walk down to the office in that skirt was a walk of shame! then mom came with a ugly, dark, printed skirt. i refused to change into that skirt..as a 12 year old, i also had to handle not just the period but also some sense of fashion (peer pressure)...long story short...it was a horrible day..i don't remember how my classmates interacted with me the next day. But those few hours are etched in my mind.
ReplyDeleteother=mother typo
ReplyDeleteWhat bothered me the most about my first deep red dots was that in a couple of hours, I had ceased being daddy's little girl. I remember feeling embarrassed and awkward in his presence, sadly thinking to myself that now, I will never be able to sit in his lap, or be 'Carefree'around him. Thankfully, he put me at ease by saying that nothing had changed between us. And now, after more than a decade of battling with the deep red dots, daddy knows what brand I use and my place in his lap is still mine...Your article made me nostalgic
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