The Start

Today marks the 20th anniversary since I entered the menstruation club and to mark such an occasion I’m sharing with you guys an essay chronicling that first bloody day.  Whether you’ve had your own brush with getting your first period or never had the chance to experience it yourself, I hope you’ll get a laugh from the way I handled things…poorly. Enjoy!

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June 5th. The year 2000. It was one month into my eleventh year, one week until I officially took on the title of middle schooler, and three days until the fifth grade pool party I’d had my heart set on since Kindergarten. Everything was coming up Jodi.

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I jumped out of bed that morning excited. The whole last week of elementary school was dedicated to field trips for the entire fifth grade and that day we were heading to the Science Center. I went about my morning routine like usual; shower, breakfast, Mama’s Family, school. Only this day felt…off. My lower back ached like someone was twisting a knife at the bottom of my spine. But, I figured, it was nothing and kept going through the morning motions. Then, it happened. As I sat to take part in that glorious first pee of the day I saw the red stain blooming on the fabric of my underwear. My first period had arrived, unexpected and unwanted.

I knew what was happening immediately. I also knew that I wanted nothing to do with it. So I did what any rational person who goes to sleep fine and wakes up bleeding profusely would do, completely ignored it. I didn’t call my mom, I didn’t look for a pad, or even just grab a washcloth. I showered, put on a clean pair of underwear and the darkest jeans I owned, yelled bye to my dad and ran to catch the bus for school. I refused to let a small thing like puberty get in the way of my field trip. 

As we reached the Science Center, I realized I had been a member of this new club for two hours and no one but me knew it. Outwardly I was as loud as usual, horsing around with the boys and giggling with the girls, but on the inside? My uterus was waging a war that I was not winning. Soon the backaches were provided support from their top allies abdominal cramps, irritability, and ravenous hunger. I spent the whole day avoiding the bathroom, naively hoping that if I just didn’t acknowledge my period then it wouldn’t really be happening. 

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But by the time I got home I was in desperate need of a snack, a heating pad, and a change of underwear. I hurried to the bathroom after holding it all day, quietly wishing that my still sleepy eyes hadn’t actually seen a stain in my underwear that morning, but of course they had. When I pulled down my pants there was my period in all of her glory, making a mess of everything from the waist down. It was in that moment that I accepted the fate that had befallen me. Sort of. I knew there was no way around it, I had just been sentenced to 40ish years of inconvenience, but I still wasn’t trying to actively take care of the situation. I pulled my pants back up, washed my hands, and went to lay down on the couch. My mom asked if I was okay to which I nodded yes and said I was just feeling a little tired.

It was at this moment I realized if I didn’t fill my mom in on the situation at hand, I’d risk spending the rest of my life ruining every pair of pants I’d ever own. I took a deep breath, turned to my mom and said “I think I got my period,” and immediately burst into tears. Telling someone else made the whole thing  way too real, there was no more ignoring, no more hoping it was a mistake. To my mom’s credit, she jumped into action. She got me off of the couch and into the shower, she set out a pad and clean underwear and made a snack while I got myself together. 

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When I returned to the living room she already had a tape set up all about periods and the changes that happen to a young girl’s body. She had bought it months before, trying to prepare me for puberty but I had refused to sit and watch it. I still wasn’t that into watching a weird after school special style video explain to me what was going on with my body. I more or less got it and I hated that it was a thing I had to go through.

I was mostly devastated cause I was convinced I could never go swimming again in my whole life, but my mom reassured me that no, I didn’t have to give up swimming forever just because I got my period….but I would have to give up my coveted 5th grade pool party since I was in no shape to learn tampon basics on the first go around. If I was upset about starting my period before, knowing I’d be missing that pool party because of it wrecked me for the rest of the week.

I didn’t go to school for the last few days of the year, I was too bummed out and it wasn’t like I was missing anything important anyway. Little did I know that missing that pool party would be the first in a  long line of bullshit my period would pull on me over the next 20 years. But that’s for another essay. 

Were you someone who looked forward to getting their first period or did you dread the idea of it like I did? Got a first period story you wanna share? Was it awful? Awkward? Amazing? I’d love to hear about it! Comment with it down below or shoot me an email so we can bond over nature’s “gift” together!