Coming of Age

Growing up I seem to have always learnt things via hard lessons. This is something I wanted to spare my children from. That was the one most important thing hubby and I agreed on, our kids would be protected no matter what.

So I, like I guess a lot children do, wanted to be so much better than my mother and father. I wasn’t going to make promises I couldn’t keep. I wasn’t going to lie to my kids, and I wasn’t going to keep them in the dark about their bodies.

When I was in the 6^th grade, our class was split up, and all the girls where taken into another room, and told taught all about periods.  I was 11 years old, and I was a bit of a tom boy. I still very much like playing with dolls, but I was equally at home digging up worms and climbing trees, and I certainly didn’t have any time for that kind of thing to be happening to me. YUCK, GROSS, no way!

  

I didn’t really take it all in, and I ended up having more questions after the talk than I did going in. However there was no way I was going to ask the nuns! My mother didn’t talk about such things. She was Catholic, enough said there. So what I learnt, I got from older girls, and friends and my one of my big sisters. I was even embarrassed to tell her (my mum) I was pregnant, as would be an admission of the fact I had sex. Mind you I had been married for 3 years; this is how awkward it was with her!

My biggest fear was my period actually starting. The thought of it just starting without me knowing when or where was terrifying. I thought it would just start, and like water coming out of a tap, just run down my legs. Well no one explained it!

  

When the day arrived, two weeks after my 13^th birthday, I wasn’t even aware. I was sitting on the lounge with my legs drawn up, resting my chin in my knees, in my PJ’s watching “A Country Practice” with my mum, and niece who was living with us, and my mum said I think you better go to the toilet. I looked at her confused, as I didn’t need the loo, but she gestured towards my crotch, and I remember looking down and thinking “what the hell is that?”

I jumped up and raced to the loo, and discovered that I was bleeding. Shock, horror, and disgust, was what I was feeling. My mother came back with a clean pair of pants, and this jumbo sized period pad. I am not exaggerating. It was long, and thick, and just gross.

My mother had gone through the change years before, and I think these were some olds ones left over from her day. MASSIVE! She said as she tossed it to me, “Congratulations you are a woman now” and walked away.That was it. I think my reply was “I don’t want to be a woman!”

I sat there on the loo with this thing and tried to sort out how to wear it. When I eventually came out, with this massive padding between my legs, I couldn’t even walk normally. I felt so cheated of my youth, and I hated the feeling of this pad. Thank goodness pads are now paper thin, so much better.

 So anyway, I wasn't going to let my daughter suffer like that. I have never hid my body from my kids. None of it, the good, the bad, and the ugly! Especially my daughter, who has seen me slim young, fat and heavily pregnant, and now much older, bigger and middle aged. That is another thing my parents did. I have one memory of my mother's breasts, and that was when I caught her dressing. I was amazed at how big and round they were, and wondered if I too would get breasts like that. She yelled at me to leave the room, but I wasn't ashamed of my mother. She was ashamed of herself. My kids have never thought it strange to come into the bathroom while I am showering, or if I am on the loo to have a chat, or ask for me for something, usually something like “Mum, can I have a biscuit?” which of course, right at that moment I can not do anything about, so they hang there and chat some more. What can I say, I have a strange family. I have never hidden the fact that I am female, and occasionally I bleed. Not even from my boys.

Too many young men seem to have this weird fear of menstrual blood. They won’t even touch a packet of Carefree, let alone go buy it for their partner. I did have much fun with an young (almost 30) male manger of mine, he was afraid of female blood. So if he was hanging about too much, I would strike up the 'Girly Talk' with someone. You know, something like  "My cramps are bloody painful today!" or "My period is really heavy this week", he would turn around and walk the other way so fast. My boys will not be so precious. My hubby has always been cool with it. It is a natural part of life. Face it, women bleed. My boys don’t freak out if I have my period. When they were little, they even wanted to peel the sticky bit off and help me. (That was annoying), but they are not freaked out, and so wont be when one day they have a partner.

I answer their questions, “Mummy does that hurt?” or “Mummy do boys get their periods too?” so now they are not fussed at all. As it should be! Kids are a lot smarter than we give them credit for. Be open and honest with them. Pass down your knowledge; it is a wonderful gift to share.

My daughter was actually so happy and excited the day she got her period. I was just home from hospital, after child number 3 was born, and she came in to wake me from a nap. I was so shocked, she was younger than I was. So I showed her how to use the pad, and hugged her. She raced off and told her dad. I marvelled over how different her experience was to mine. It was really something to be celebrated, and she taught me that.

Next day though the novelty had worn off, and she was asking me when is this going to stop! Sorry kid, welcome to growing up. My girlfriend’s daughters were all a bit more moody about things. I had a friend at the time who thought I was nuts for allowing my kids in the loo when I was on my monthly’s. She never shared any of that stuff with her daughter, thinking it was to scary for her. She wouldn't even tell her kids she was having a period and hid her tampons, (I keep my feminine hygiene products in the loo, nice and handy.) Yet when the time came, her daughter was upset, and mine was totally accepting of how life is. So I guess I must have done something right?

It is just a ‘Rite of Passage’, a ‘Coming of Age.’