I was 13 and 5 months old and all but two of my friends had gotten their periods. I had pretended to get mine for 2 years. The day I actually got it was November 21. I had just gotten home from Wednesday night church with my best friend, and my dad and brother were home with me.
When I went to the bathroom, I looked down to see a small red splotch in my favorite underwear with the little pencils on them. I was utterly elated. For months I'd been preparing for this moment and I wasn't sure what to expect when it finally came. Pants at my ankles, I called my mom and told her the news. She told me to go grab a pad from her room. Of course I already knew where they were, I had been snatching them recently in preparation for the big event.
When my mother got home, I immediately wanted to go to the drugstore and purchase my very own pack of pads. So we went, and I got them. Once we were home it was near bedtime, so I stuck one in, and collapsed into giddy slumber.
In the morning, I excitedly scampered to the bathroom to view a spectacle I'd never seen before, a fully used pad. So, I yanked down my pajamas, looked down, saw the product of menstruation, and promptly fainted.
I'm not sure how long I blacked out for, but when I came to, I'd apparently gotten used to the sight of my vaginal excrement and was able to go through the now familiar process of changing pads.
Disgruntled by my experience, I immediately felt the novelty of "womanhood" lose its luster as I trudged downstairs to eat my Cheerio's. It was milestone, yes, but also a disappointment.