My Period Story

Written Anonymously

My first period came at summer camp. Surrounded by a pack of giggling girls, I ran towards the bathroom, arms full of our cabin’s stash of women’s products (three boxes of tampons and six pads, to be exact). There, I locked myself and two trusted, experienced, friends into a stall. We did not emerge until I knew how to insert a tampon, stick a liner to my underwear and discreetly dispose of each item. At fifteen, I was late to the club, but relieved to join. 

When I arrived home three weeks later, I hesitated to tell my mom that I had reached this momentous milestone of puberty. Instead, I diverted attention to various accomplishments of the summer: I made new friends, swam across the lake and back without a lifejacket, and learned how to grill a hot dog over a campfire. Inhibited by an inexplicable mixture of fear and shame, I kept to myself. Why did I need to tell my mom anyway? I was equipped with the skills I learned in the bathroom stall at camp, and my bathroom cabinets at home were well stocked with materials for my older sister and mom. I could buy some time. And, I did; I kept up the act for a few months before finally working up the courage to tell my mom. 

I decided to keep my secret from everyone else, however. In a twisted way, having a secret gave me a newfound sense of power. Like many people who menstruate, I learned to discreetly slip a tampon up from the depths of my backpack and into my sleeve, to be unwrapped later in the privacy of a bathroom stall. I started carrying a purse once a month. I laughed along when boys expressed their disgust and bewilderment about menstruation. “She’s probably just PMSing” someone probably said, and I’d probably agree. The truth was, I felt bewildered by my period, too. 

It was not until much later, when the unlearning started. In our society, the message that: Periods are gross, embarrassing and unclean is reinforced over and over again, so much so that we believe it to be true. However, in college, I slowly began to understand my body as something wiser than I had ever imagined. I stayed up late reading about the physiology of menstruation, pheromones and theories of period synchronization, the ancient Red Tent rituals, and ties between monthly cycles and the moon. My friends shared anecdotes and remedies, and when we’d inevitably sync up, we’d yell at each other and then cry together.