My period arrived last night quite unexpectedly. When I noticed the small stain on my underpants, I actually stood up and cranked my head out the bathroom window to take a look at the moon. It was there. Sitting in the sky. Which means it was the absolute wrong day for my period to have arrived. But there was no denying that stain and the cramps that were creeping into my lower abdomen.
Lovely. Just lovely.
I was thirteen when I got my first period. That particular day I was at Gay’s house. Gay is my aunt, but is also like my older sister because for much of her life she lived with our family. I discovered the blood on my underwear in her upstairs bathroom. And I immediately looked under her sink for some sort of panty liner or something so I could deal with it without telling anyone. I had seen the special movie they showed us in fifth grade. I knew what was happening. I wasn’t going to have a “Carrie” moment and think I was bleeding to death. I didn’t want this to be happening to me since I was about the biggest tomboy on the block, but I was prepared to deal with it. I just had to find some supplies.
There was a bong under her sink (the things you remember), but no menstrual supplies of any kind. So I sat there thinking about what I was going to do and finally yelled downstairs and asked her to please come up, that we had an emergency.
Gay played it cool and got me a Stayfree Maxi pad. And then we both went about our business.
Until my mother arrived.
Gay told her what had transpired. My mother being my mother had to make a huge drama over the whole thing and gush about how grown up I was and take me to Woolworth’s to buy supplies. By the end of the afternoon, I had enough pads and tampons to outfit an entire nunnery. I was certain they’d last me a lifetime.
I guess perhaps I didn’t pay as close attention to that movie they showed us in fifth grade. Or maybe they actually didn’t even tell us that periods are just one big royal pain in the vagina. (I could say ass, but really, I should be anatomically correct, don’t you think?). The movie forgot to mention that your period hurts. It really hurts. It feels like your insides are trying to extract themselves completely from your body. It also forgot to mention that those super absorbent tampons would most definitely leak and ruin your favorite underwear nine times out of ten. It didn’t matter to me one bit that the arrival of my period every month meant I wasn’t pregnant. I wasn’t having sex!
In our patriarchal society, women who have their periods are considered unclean and even unsafe. Suddenly, I was told not to go swimming when I had my period. Fuck that, I was on the swim team. I was swimming. My mother suggested that I might not want to ride my horse when I was menstruating. Fuck that, too. There were girls in my class at school who were excused from gym class. Come on, now. Just because there’s a little blood spilling from between your legs does not mean you can’t play volleyball!
When I went off to boarding school the next year, I learned about the very power of periods. There I was in a dormitory with 24 other teenage girls. Within three months, we were all having our period at the same time. The boys were terrified. There is absolutely nothing bitchier than a dorm full of menstruating women. Trust me.
That was over twenty years ago. Which means, by my calculations, I’ve had my period at least 424 times. I can assure you that the closet full of supplies my mother bought me wore out a few years ago. Given all that practice, my body still doesn’t seem to have a handle on this whole period mess. Like last night. BAM. Surprise. Here I am when you least expect me. And you’re wearing your favorite pair of underwear.
My body had become very in synch with the cycles of the moon. Every new moon I would get my period like clockwork. It’s been that way for like the last five years. Which is why, when it appeared last night, I jumped up and looked out the window. The moon is shining. It’s not the new moon. My body is out of synch again.
However, given that I lost my job and have had a few other stressful events this last month, it’s probably no biggie. Just no fun at all when the cramps arrive full-force and you’re supposed to be on your way to Pilates class. No fun at all.
I wonder how much longer this period business will last? I figure at least another 15 years or so. That’s another 180 times! It’s good to know I’m more than two-thirds of the way to the finish line. And truth be told, though I have horrible cramping, my periods only last two days, so I honestly should not complain.
However, I’m a woman. With her period. So watch out.
