I was eleven when it happened. That could be either young or old, depending on when it happened for your mother/sister(s). For me, it was young, and quite an achievement too. Yes, I’d done it. Finally crossed that bridge between childhood and adulthood. I held up my stained nightie as a trophy and nothing could diminish my joy. Not even the unnecessary and sincerely, irrelevant advice from all sources.
By the end of the day, I knew that, no, boys should definitely not come anywhere near me; no form of “play” between me and the opposite sex was permitted and it was absolutely in line for me to cease all contact with anybody with a slightly differing anatomy.
But none of this could drain my joy. I mean, I WAS a woman.
As you probably guessed, that joy did NOT last long. The first thing I discovered about my period.
Periods meant extra time doing laundry- dried blood is not the easiest stain to get out and except you have some wonder pads or tampons (tell me the brand please) it is inevitable that at some point, your under clothes would get stained too. I just realized, that some of you might find the word “period” offensive, or disgusting…so henceforth I shall use the euphemism “Aunty Clar”.
“Aunty Clar” is disgusting, and that’s that. You don’t want me to go into detail right now. I mean, we all know how disgusting it is to “heed nature’s call” or poo-poo. Sorry, I’m kind of blunt like that. So imagine, having to poop while “Aunty Clar” is visiting. All that blood, mixed with the brown or for some of us, black; bottom line, it isn’t the most pleasant sight in the world. At all.
That aside, most of the time, Aunty Clar doesn’t even knock before visiting. No, she just barges in when you least expect it. You sit to pee and BAM she’s there. Trust me that, is not fun. Or worse, you wear your favorite white outfit because you know, white is in, this season, that’s what Jolie and her friends be rockin’, and next thing you know some helpful stranger is telling you (with disguised happiness) to look behind you.
And how can I talk about AC without mentioning cramps. Omg, cramps. If you’re me, then every time she’s here you have cramps. Cramps cannot be explained, only experienced. And for me, cramps come with indigestion, vomiting, profuse sweating and a whole day in bed.
In case you were wondering, Aunty Clar is visiting me right now, which is my excuse for writing this post which I would definitely regret later.
So yeah, thanks a lot Eve.