Every girl around my age who had tlaked to me about it had told me that their mothers had gotten all excited and motherly when they got their period for the first time. Lots of giggling and serious interest and tlaking and even some cake.
I got my period a lot earlier than anyone else in my family, I was 11. I rememebr waiting for it for years wondering if it would be cool lol and thinking my mum would be excited and sweet to me for a change.
I got it one day just before lunch at home, and I sat there panicing for a bit. I called for mum and she yelled t me to stop messing around and come for lunch. I must have asked for her to come to me at least 5 times, maybe more, and she just got madder and yelled more. I finally said I really needed here and she eventually stormed into the bathroom. I told her and showed her and she was 'Oh, then ok'. She haned me one of her pads, and proceeded to tell me the rules: dad was to never ever see anything related to my period (used pads, unused pads, blood in the loo, stained underware, anything), I had to hide my pads when I got my own, I had to double wrap my used ones in toilet paper and then bury them in the trash, I wasn't to not flush on pain of death, if she caught me putting pads or blood on the walls I was also dead (honestly, do girls actually do that?), I had to change pads frequently because otherwise I would stink and everyone would know, and I wasn't to tell anyone. Nothing was said about what to expect or how to deal with it. It was the rules, being told to hurry up, and then she left. I desperately wanted that tender bonding mother/daughter moment. But all I got was anger and rules and being made to feel like it was something dirty.
The strangest thing was she made such a big deal about dad not knowing or seeing and then she told him that night. And while she forbade me from telling anyone, she told people she hated (and who she guarded her own personal life from) all about my period.
The whole time I lived with mum I had to hide my pads from my dad and anyone else. Unlike her, I wasn't allowed to keep them in the bathroom. I had to hide them in my bedroom, and then hide one in my clothes and bring it up from my room when I needed it.
I had a few 'weird' things associated with my period that I didn't know about or understand (school didn't do the whole bio ed thing until I was 15 lol) and I was always freaked out about them. But mum wouldn't talk to me about it at all. And when I learned later and told her 'I learnt about this and I had it before', she told me that it was wrong or I wasn't functioning properly when in fact I was functioning perfectly.
Later, when I was having very heavy periods I asked for more pads, and she wouldn't buy them for me. So I asked to buy them myself and she said no. But she would get angry about me not changing enough and possibly 'stinking'. I would run out half way through my period and have to use toilet paper.
It seemed like form my first period on it was this huge thing for my mother that she persecuted me for and ignored similtaneously and I have no idea why.