I was 10, jumping on my bed, in the only house I'd ever lived in. Every wall was pink. Like pepto bismol pink. I'm in my room playing with my best friend and my brother and I felt wet, I knew I hadn't peed on myself so I kept playing. I mean maybe some pee did trickle out a bit, but I didn't care I was having fun. The wetness started to feel like it was coming through my clothes so I ran to the bathroom. I saw blood... I was dying. My mom comes in and tells me to stop being dramatic, it's just my period.
Soooooo I'm suppose to just stop panicking about something strange that is happening to my body that NO ONE forewarned me about????? Bruh.
She gives me this pad that's mad thick, no wings and showed me where to put it in my panties. Front to back. It was long and bulky and just *sighs* why baby jesus? I had started something new, without an introduction, no instruction, no guidance....nothing.
Story of my life.
Still in 5th grade....I had this super cute two piece short set. It was off white, with vertical stripes. The top resembled a baseball jersey. Fred Flinstone was on it too. I was fly......until that sneaky little red sea shows up, while I'm at school!!!!
I'm.....in...5th....grade!!!!! The bathrooms were putrid. I didn't know to monitor when it came, or to keep just in case pads on me. So I folded and folded and folded as much tissue as I could, and stuffed it in my underwear....I was good.
Until I wasn't. Lol
Truth is I probably did have extra pads. I was embarrassed to have a cycle. I was afraid a pad would fall out my book bag. I always felt that all the boys knew I was experiencing mother nature. I just knew that you could see that big bulky pad on my butt like a diaper lol.
My mom isn't a bad person, she's actually amazing in her own quirky way. Looking back on it she was a novice at it too. I was the oldest girl in the house. I don't think she thought to prepare me to have a cycle. She didn't have hers until she was in high school.
For many years I knocked her for the things she didn't do, failing to acknowledge what she did do. Although we didn't have the "talk", she did give me a pad.
I've questioned a lot of things like, bad breakups. Often asking, why Lord? What's so wrong with me? What makes me so undeserving? Knocking God for letting me get my heart broken. (I know I tried it) Then God was like, I gave you pad.....LOL just kidding. God gave me a tool, like my mom gave me that pad. It was up to me to use it.
I had a choice. To dwell in my frustration, or take accountability for what I didn't do.
I didn't use the extra pads, thinking I knew what was best with that whole roll of tissue in my pants lol. She had my best interest in mind, I think I was just angry it was happening to me, and that she didn't warn me about it.
Why didn't she know to prepare me? What was going through her mind when it happened? Was she ok mentally? Was she stressed? Had she experienced heartbreak? Was something wrong that caused her vision to be clouded? I never once considered her point of view. I only considered mine.
She gave me a pad, that was her method of protecting me.
You gotta put your big girl panties on, look beyond your scope of understanding and seek insight. It can be very enlightening.
I adore my mom, there's no bitterness, just gratitude. Without her, there'd be no me, and no Chronicles of the Lazy Natural.
Thanks mom, I love you.