Branded With Shame
I remember the first time I had my period. Long before then, when I first learned about women's periods, I had a different idea on it. When I was younger I saw it as a beautiful, special and unique event of all in the cosmos. The idea that my body would change and keep Rhythm (sorta) was fascinating. I was, when I was younger, proud to be a female. Even better I was proud to be a girl of humanity. Well as time went on things changed. Misfortune was casted me; My family life was becoming unsteady.
I was never sexually abused in my life; Though my sister claimed to be. Subsequently mental illness was diagnosed. I was only an 11 year old. I was childlike and childish. I had my first experience with hormones and horniness. I was happy till those misfortunes days. But the worse was yet to come. It was on my 12th birth day my period gave me a hint. I saw very little amount of blood. Then the next day I didn't see it again. A week passed and my period fully came.
At first I remember everything my mother joked about when I would get a period. She told me it would be coming around soon. She made jokes about not hiding my kotex and that I was suppose to throw them away. Of course I said I would, there seemed like no reason not to. When my period did come however, my ideas of beauty fled. I can't remember why but something had made me ashamed. I couldn't pull myself to tell my mother I had my first period.
So I hid it successfully for the first time. I hid my kotex in my closet and later threw them away in secret, or sometimes I shove them deep under the trash pile in the trashcan in the bathroom. I no longer felt beautiful and even worse the boys at school started to tease the girls about their periods. This only made it harder for me to admit to having mine. I hated them for it. I realized they were just oblivious to how it really works. But I hated the other girls more for they were oblivious to how their own bodies worked; they called it a curse, and that made me feel worse.
When it was finally my second period, I was fretting. The stash of usable kotex was almost out, I was going to have to ask my mom for some more.
It was late November when I told her or December, I'm not so sure. But it was by the second time or third time my stash was all gone. I told my mom I had started my period. The look on her face branded my tribulation with shame. Even though she didn't mean it. And afterward she tried to be understanding, nothing could take away from the feelings she gave me, the feelings that would seemed to say that having a period was shameful thing and that I was suppose to let every one know about what my body does.
I had an attitude that "If you don't tell me everything you do with your body, then neither do I need to tell you what I do with my body." I felt it was no ones business other than my own whether I had my period or not. But then my mom didn't respect my boundaries, she kept saying I was suppose to tell her when I get my period, always. But that conflicts with my feelings that I can't help but have.
She did the worse thing thinkable; she told my father I had my period. Things were already tense and uncomfortable after all the misfortunes. Her telling him only made me feel worse. I had this strange open feeling in places I never had before, I felt like my body wasn't my own. To be watched and judged by everyone. I didn't like this vulnerable feeling, luckily I understood why I was having them, this understanding casted away the dark shadows of the feeling vulnerability.
I felt guilty that I had kept a secret from my mom (the first of many). But I felt angry that she told my father, and angry how my family teased me even after. I hope you reader understand I only kept it a secret because I feared getting teased and joked about. And my family fulfilled these fears, I had the right to fear telling them, and I no longer felt wrong for keeping it a secret from them. My mother eventually brought me more feminine products.
The feelings created at that crucial time in my life never went away. But I would later learn about the Great Mother Goddess; Her story inspired me to love my womanhood again. I am no longer ashamed. My family however still approaches the subject with unnecessary precaution. I have learned to look forward to my period and despite the pains and cramps; I love having it so much. I am glad to be a woman. I am glad to be made from the image of the Great Goddess. I am glad to celebrate womanhood every month now!