Well, as there were no studies done of my elementary school class, I don’t know that I was the first to get my period. But, I do know I was the first (or at least the first that they noticed) to wear a bra because I was teased mercilessly for it–by the girls. Believe me, I didn’t give a rat’s ass what was going on with the other girls’ hormones–except that I was singled out by them for being, in their eyes, different.
It isn’t hard to tell if a girl is wearing a bra. Especially if they’re wearing white shirts–and I know I never saw another girl in a bra. It is quite possible someone else wore a bra, though, before me, and just hid it considerably better. (Funny thing is, over the course of the summer, all the girls must have run out and bought one, because for 6th grade practically everyone had one. Of course, 6th grade where I lived was junior high, so that’s probably part of it.)
It wasn’t too hard to tell I needed a bra, either. I was a full B-cup at age 10 or 11–none of this training bra stuff for me–when I was first fitted. I’d been wearing sheer white cotton oxford shirts, and well, let’s just say I didn’t look like a little girl in them. It was my mother’s insistence that I get them–and wear them. Boo!
As far as my period goes, I have no idea if I was “the” first, but I’m pretty certain I was in the first tier. I remember not long before starting this one sweet girl having the integrity to fight ignorance at 11 to ask me if I’d started. I said no, I hadn’t, and she then told me girls were spreading all these rumors that I’d started and was telling everyone, bragging, showing off, etc. Umm…? There wasn’t even a grain of truth in that. (Although I did start like 2 weeks later.) The only thing I figure is that the cattier girls had noticed my more womanly shape and just went from there.
Then there was all that junior high stuff–all the girls talking about their periods, can’t wait to get theirs, Claudine just came running out of the bathroom giddy 'cause she started!, yadda yadda–and I’m just sitting there thinking, Huh. Why do they want it? Shoot, they can have mine!