Rachel W. • Alabama • 25
Growing up, I was always the youngest in my group of friends. I was the last one to start wearing makeup, get my ears pierced, be kissed, all the typical exciting things that you get to experience in your awkward formative years as a blossoming young lady. They would tell all their exhilarating, rousing stories about each of their “firsts,” and I would sit, listen, and feel the creep of jealousy.
Among their “firsts,” were their first periods. They made it sound awful. Blood coming out of where? Earth shaking cramps? Sudden, unexpected emotions including but not limited to sadness, despair, anger, and rage? Being forced to line your new cute, pink Limited Too underwear with a giant hour glass shaped piece of diaper that holds on with sticky adhesive and “wings?” That was nothing compared to “THE TAMPON.” An elaborate series of tubes that push out a wad of cotton that could maybe even steal your virginity?
Somehow, the heinous monstrosity that was a period was worn by my friends like a badge of honor. They’d skip PE class whenever they wanted, they’d share pads and tampons with each other like they were trophies and medals. I wondered if I’d ever join the ranks of the bleeding.
My day came, soon enough. I was 12. It was at a birthday party. It was a really special birthday party because it was a “boy girl party.” My crush would be there. My other crush would be there. Oh, and that other crush would be there. I went over early to get ready with some of the girls. We finished our primping, applied our sticky drug store lip gloss, put on our Abercrombie best, and made our way downstairs. The boys arrived and the party started. We ate snacks, we drank fruit punch. We played outside, we watched TV. All in all, a really dull party. But I was having a great time.
All of the sudden I feel a pain in my gut. I went to the bathroom, expecting to get some relief, when all I got was a red wad of toilet paper. At first I was horrified, then the feelings of inadequacy in the face of my grown up friends came flooding back, and my mouth contorted into a smile. I’m one of them now. For a moment I reveled in the weird thing my body was doing to me, knowing I’d never have to hear them talk down to me again. But it quickly was replaced with “what am I supposed to do now?”
I slowly opened the bathroom door, and shifted my way back into the boy girl party of the century. I looked around for my older, closer friends. I found them giggling in a corner. There I made my awkward, declaration of my new found womanhood. They looked blankly at me, then to each other, then two big goofy, evil grins took over their faces and I knew I was in trouble. They knocked their heads back and screamed in laughter. “OH MY GAAAAAAAAAAAHD!!!!!!” “NOOOOOO!!!!!!!” “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!!!!!!” My face turned red. I boiled in embarrassment. They howled as I tried my best to calm them down. People were starting to look. BOYS were starting to look. Before I could say anything, they both grabbed me and we all made our way back into the very public bathroom off the foyer. The peering eyes of curious girls, the dumbfounded, audible “huh?” of the boys all shot into me like a dozen arrows.
They plopped me on the toilet, towering high above me. “ARE YOU SURE IT’S YOUR PERIOD?” “LET ME SEE YOUR UNDERWEAR!!!!” They continued their loud questioning while I tried to get a word in. They looked to each other, then back at me and told me they’d be right back. Before I could object, they exited the bathroom. I sat there quietly, feeling trapped. I was becoming more and more aware of how much time was passing. How the boys certainly by now were theorizing about what could possibly be happening in the bathroom off the foyer.
Suddenly, the door flung open. There, in addition to my friends were nearly all the other female guests of the party. They all flooded into the bathroom and hovered over me, giggling and demanding I answer questions. As I looked up helplessly at their tween faces, I noticed something. The bathroom door was open. They left the door open. No one closed the DAMN BATHROOM DOOR AND NOW ALL THE BOYS WERE IN THE HALLWAY TRYING TO GET A PEAK AT WHAT WAS HAPPENING IN THE BATHROOM OFF THE FOYER. I screamed “CLOSE THE DOOR!!!” The shrieking crowd of girls shut up and looked at me, then at the door. Realizing the mistake that would scar me for the rest of my boy girl party days, one of them reached out and closed the door.
Someone finally procured a pad. A small crowd of the hoard made their exit from the bathroom off the foyer. My closer friends remained and then, only then, after having embarrassed me so much, did they do their mature womanly duties and help me out.
I finished up and we exited the bathroom off the foyer together. My head hung low, my eyes avoiding anything that resembled human life. We went to the kitchen and I got something to eat. I could see the boys peeking around the corner. I knew they knew. How could they not know? I felt so stupid. My moment of womanly pride had became a moment of childish humiliation.
Eventually the party got back into it’s full, dull swing and my head started to lift from it’s Charlie Brown stoop. I started to see signs of what was good in my awkward, 12 year old life again. I started to laugh at jokes, join in on foolish gossip, run around outside, and before I knew it, the awful unknown that was a period lost it’s lofty unattainability and became something quite normal. I may have finally “grown up,” had my first period, and become a woman like the rest of my friends, but I was still just a kid and I did stupid, kiddish things without worrying about my period, and it was great.
