Sometimes these are funny, touching, interesting stories, so I thought we’d relate what it was like when we first got our period, because Bea Arthur reminded me of it the other day.
I got my first period when I was almost thirteen. And my friend and I went to the movies. I went to the bathroom in the middle of the movie and my jeans were completely soaked and stained. I was…MORTIFIED. I had no idea how to proceed, if everyone could SEE me, if I should tell my friend, whatever. So I watched the rest of the movie and my mom picked us up. I was silent in the car, and when we got home I told my mom and she was…THRILLED! She smiled and clapped and hugged me and I could not understand how this sort of thing could be a joyous event at all.
Anyway, I took a bath, got set up with those three inch pads that smell like baby powder, from the early eighties. And I sat down to watch Golden Girls, and I thought, I can’t wait until I’m as old as those ladies, and then I won’t have my period anymore.
On monday, I asked my health teacher if it was possible to get a hysterectomy at 13 so I wouldn’t have my period anymore, and she was so nice not to laugh at me, she just shook her head and said, “I’m afraid not”.
I was eleven - my doctor had told my mom a year before that I needed to be “on the look out” for my period to begin. After driving my older sister nuts for months, showing her my panties and asking “Is this my period?” (No one ever used the word “blood” back then), I finally got my monthy visitor while coming home from vacation in a motor home with my parents. Luckily there where supplies in the bathroom. I bothered no one, as soon as I saw the blood, it finally dawned on me. Cleaned myself up, and told my mom my period had started. “OK, that’s good.” was all I got out of her.
I was in last hour which was band. I felt this weird sensation and just…KNEW. I raised my hand and told the teacher I had to go to the nurse and when he started asking why I just got up and left. I told her my period had started and I needed a pad. Of course, it was five feet long and three feet thick (or that’s how it felt) and made me feel like I had a diaper tucked into my jeans. I got home and waited for my dad to get home and told him only because I totally had to. He called his girlfriend to find out what to buy for me. Fortunately, thin maxis had recently made a big splash (so to speak) so he got me those. By the end of the year I had figured out tampons and never ever went back.
It sucked. My dad wasn’t mad attentive anyhow so I felt really awkward and embarassed having to tell him that I had functioning girl-parts.
I was 13, and it was the second week of 8th grade. I had planned out in my head way before it happened what to do when it did, so I wasn’t surprised. I was at school when it happened, but luckily there was no mess and I therefore didn’t know until I got home and used the bathroom. Out of embarrasment, I didn’t tell my mother for a week. I finally told her because it had been a whole week and I still had it. She did exactly what I knew she’d do…she called my DAD up at work and told him, and put me on the phone with him, and he was awkward but proud, and then…he told his boss!!! Who was male!!!
This is why I didn’t tell my mother for a week, of course.
My punishment for keeping it to myself seems to have been that I had my first period for TWELVE DAYS. It never happened like that again, and although my mother always seemed to want to know when I had it, I never told her again. I became very good at hiding it, in fact that 1st time incident seems to have scarred me to where I even hide it from my husband. I’m 24 and I don’t know why I’m still so embarassed. I’m very phobic about leaking but luckily never have.
Probably TMI, sorry.
I don’t remember how old I was- maybe 13? I was on the phone laying on my moms bed and I felt…wet. I put my hand there, saw blood and was scared for a minute- like WTF??? Then I realized what it was, hung up , and went to the bathroom and got a pad (I had two older sisters). I don’t recall being thrilled or anything, just crampy. Of course, my mom called and spread the news to everyone. Why do parents DO that?
I was 11 and my mother and I were visiting my nana.
I went in to pee and saw the blood and asked if my nana had anything for pads. My mother flipped and kept telling me I needed to go to the emergency room because I was hemmoraging. :rolleyes: Just because you were 16 mom doesn’t mean I’m dying.
Eventually she calmed down enough that she did not take me to the ER and I got to fulfill my babysitting responsibilities at a neighbor’s house that evening. She did call me hourly to make sure I hadn’t passed out from the bloodloss.
Mine started when I was just barely 11. This was kind of early; as far as I know, none of the girls I knew had started, nor was the matter yet a topic of discussion among us. I knew that grownup women had periods, but didn’t realize that they started before adulthood. When I found a small amount of blood on my panties, I was puzzled. Not scared, just puzzled. I didn’t realize this was my first period. I told my parents about it. Mom explained what it was. My parents seemed pleased, which I also found puzzling. Why was this supposed to be a good thing?
I soon found that this business of having periods was a major nuisense. Mine were quite heavy, never lasted less than a week, and for years, the start of a new one was always accompanied by cramps. And If menstruating meant you could get pregnant, what kind of sence did it make for girls to start at 11, 12, or 13? Who in their right mind would want to have a baby at such a young age? It seemed not only unsensible but also unfair. Why should I have to start contending with this seven or eight years before reaching what seemed to me to be the earliest possible age at which one should consider having a baby?
A friend of mine who had really bad cramps at the start of each period used to talk about saving up for a hysterectomy; you were not the only one to think of that, jarbabyj!
I was 12 and in Disney World with my family. Luckily, it was really light and only lasted for two days (sigh those were the good ol’ days… :p). I thought, “Oh, dammit, not now…” I was too shy to tell my mom, since I was afraid she’d tell everyone else and embarrass me horribly for the rest of our vacation, so I made creative use of toilet paper.
Yeah, I’ve always thought that since back in the days when girls actually had babies at those ages, people were only living to be 30 or 40, it would have been nice if our bodies had evolved to go along with our longer lifespans nowadays. Which would mean that we’d start when we were 18, 19, or 20. On the other hand, would I really have wanted to be in college and first figuring out how to handle that?
From what I understand we get them earlier now because of better nutrition and that back when we were only living to 30 or 40 most women didn’t start until around 16.
Biologically we are healthier and nature is saying hey start early and have more babies! Culturally we’re saying Eeew why would a 12 year old want a baby.
Oh god, I got my first period on Christmas day. I was sitting on the ivory carpeted floor with my two older brothers and parents, wearing cute little jammies. Suddenly I felt weird, and said I had to go to the bathroom. When I stood up there was a gigantic blood stain on the rug, sort of framed by present-opening debris. My brothers just died laughing, my mother started cheering and clapping, and my dad made some excuse to go into the other room.
It was horrible. My mom, of course, called the entire family and said, “Lizochka got an extra little present this year! :: giggle giggle ::”
I was just a few days away from my 11th birthday, in sixth grade. It was field day at school, so we were all wearing our gym clothes - i.e. short speedo shorts and t-shirts. Luckily it was fairly early in the day, and I was still on the sidelines.
When it happened, I just knew, and I told the teacher that I was ill and went to the front office to call my mother. My mom was going through menopause at the time though, so there were no supplies in the house. She took me to the store and let me pick out whatever I wanted. I got a package of pads and tampons, and after trying a pad first, I got so frustrated and disgusted with the feel of it that within the first hour after wearing it I switched to the tampons.
There was only one other girl in our grade that had gotten hers, and she only a few days before me. We kind of stuck together for awhile, and everyone who figured it out kind of looked at us with awe. This only lasted about six months or so, until a great deal more of our classmates caught up with us.
The part I hated most though was that our crusty old P.E. teacher either didn’t understand or didn’t think it was possible for 10 and 11 year olds to have to deal with this, so when we asked to sit out for his class we were always given these dirty looks like we were faking it.
Good LORD Lizochka…that sounds like a freaking NIGHTMARE.
And what’s with calling the dads into play on these issues? It can only embarrass them.
Also, the joy of mothers is astounding to me. My mother nearly threw a party when I told her I had pubic hair. She said, “Next thing you know, you’ll be Marilyn Monroe!”
I was not quite 12, IIRC. My mother was quite open about everything and my older sister and her friends had all gotten theirs, so I knew all about it. I hated the pads though, all we had were those giant Kotex with the belt thingies. Ugh. I took it in stride, pretty much, although my mother calling all her sisters and my grandmother was a bit embarrassing.
Worse was that my so-called best friend of the time, who was one year older than me, had not gotten hers yet. As a “joke”, she went into my classroom the next day at recess and wrote “Triss got her period yesterday” in large letters on the board.
I remember being glad to discover that my newly baby-ready uterus did not in any way hinder my ability to chase down and thump my now EX best friend. Ah, the seventies. Things were so much simpler then.
It was summer and we had a friend of the family over visiting for a short time. I didn’t have any of the “supplies” availible (my mom had had a hysterectomy and my sister hid them). I kept waiting and wishing they’d hurry up and leave so I could talk to my mom. Mom was actually calm and didn’t make a huge thing out of it.
I’m sorta glad now I have all boys and don’t have to worry about that.
I was at school - went to the bathroom before my last class and discovered the blood. I rigged up a pad out of toilet paper and prayed for time to go by fast.
My father had picked me up from school and I remember sitting in the car positioned so my crotch wasn’t touching the seat. I didn’t say a word to him - hell, I’m over thirty and still get The Look if I curse in front of him so discussing my menses wasn’t going to happen.
I was 11 in 5th grade. My aunt had had her 1st period at the age of 9, so my parents had been preparing me from when I was 8. I woke up one morning and there was all this blood in my panties. I got a pad and went on my way with the morning. I didn’t really want to tell my mom, but decided it would be a good idea, so I did about 5 minutes before I had to leave for my carpool. She was upset that I didn’t soak my panties because they would stain.
A few months later at school we went through the sex ed/hygene class and it got out that I had “Become a Woman.” I was already unpopular for various reasons and being the first one to get boobs, zits, and menses in the class did not help. Add that to the “I’ve been shot in the stomach” cramps and the 8-9 day flows, and it’s no wonder I use my Nuvaring to skip my periods!
Sometime in seventh grade. GOt it towards the end of the day at school, used some TP until I got home. I’d always known where my mom and older sister kept stuff, so I just used what I needed. I didn’t even say anything to my mom - it finally came up about 3 months later when I was packing for camp, she asked if I was using pads or tampons. If she’d made any sort of big deal over it, I think I would have died.
I was 15 - junior in high school, so everyone else had started by then. My younger sister had started 2 years earlier (when she was 11). My mother had also started at 11 or 12. I wasn’t thin, I wasn’t ill, there was no obvious reason why I started so late.
I was, by that time, fully convinced that there was something wrong with me, and that I was some sort of completely abnormal freak. So, I was thrilled that I was less likely to be a chromosomal mutant.
I think I was in the 6th grade - maybe 12 years old. I don’t remember the day it started. I know my mom didn’t make a big deal about it - we’d had “The Talk” a year before. I don’t think she called the immediate world. Nor did I when my own daughter started.
I do recall mu kid’s dismay, tho, when she realized that this wasn’t a one-shot deal and that she’d have to go through with it for a lot of years. By that time, I’d had a hysterectomy several years earlier.
