I started at 12 at Girl Scout camp. Somehow, I just knew that I would start that week, but I figured it would happen on the last day so I only packed about 3 pads. I started on the 3rd day. Thankfully, my cabin-mate was running late and let me borrow some supplies. I didn’t tell my mom for over a year. One day I leaked on my shorts before school and asked her if she could get the stain out. Otherwise, she probably still wouldn’t know.
I was 11. It started with no drama - I’d had the Talk in school the previous year, plus my mother had been telling me to watch out for it for some time before it actually started, so I knew what was going on. It was the only time I didn’t get cramps, which was definitely nice. The only problem came at the end. The flow seemed to stop, and I think I went the better part of 24 hours without anything coming out so I thought it was over. Then at school, just before lunch, I started to feel uncomfortable. Sure enough, when I got to the bathroom I saw that it had started up again and my panties and pants were soaked through with blood (good thing I was wearing black pants!) and I didn’t have any supplies with me. I was much too embarrassed to ask anyone for help, so I made do with toilet paper and hoped I wouldn’t have to move too much the rest of the day. The fake-out ending never happened again either, but I was paranoid about it for the longest time.
I can’t remember how my mom reacted. I know I had to tell her because the allowance I got wasn’t enough money to buy my own pads so I had to get her to buy them for me, but aside from that I’m drawing a blank.
I can NOT imagine making the scene that some of these parents are reported to have. WHAT is with that?
I had a student in my 4th grade class who started, and all I knew was that she had been “bleeding” and was in the nurse’s office, talking to the very nice special ed teacher.
Her mother of course had told her nothing, and she was only finally calming down when I got there.
When your daughter starts getting breasts, you need to tell her.
I come from a family of late bloomers, so I was sixteen.
I was spending the night at my parents’ house (I lived with my grandmother.) and started having awful cramps in the middle of the night. I’m a heavy sleeper, so the only thing that occured to me was “I’m SO not going to school tomorrow.” I tossed and turned for a few hours, then woke up at about 6am, intending to go and tell my folks that I was sick.
Stopped off at the bathroom to pee, still all groggy, only to find it occupied. I was waiting in the hall, staring at the floor, when I noticed a distinct redness. On the carpet. I believe my initial reaction was “Oh, FUCK!” I pounded on the door to the bathroom, yelling that I needed in. My mother, who was in the bathroom, replied with “Use the one downstairs!”
My response: “Mom, I’m bleeding all over the damn carpet! I need the stuff in THIS bathroom!”
Mom: “What are you talking about? There are bandaids down there too, ya know!”
Me: “No, mom! I’ve started my fucking period!”
Mom: "Oh. Well, hold on. I’ll be out in a minute.
Got into the bathroom, cleaned up, cleaned up the floor. Still had to go to school.
I got mine the day Lady Di and Prince Charles got married.
It was also the morning of a day-long fishing trip with my dad and one of his buddies. (We were at the buddy’s house, miles from home.) There was no way I was going to tell these fellas what was happening, so I just wadded my underpants full of toilet paper and spent the day in the boat, moodily staring at the water and hoping I wasn’t going to bleed all over the seats. Dad mentioned later how quiet I was, pretty out-of-character for me, really, and I still haven’t told him.
I was sulkily embarrassed by the whole thing and went through about six more periods before my mom found out and did the “my little girl” song and dance, which sealed it for me. I was determined that no one would ever know about my periods again.
I’m glad I don’t have a daughter, because I would want to be really cool about this whole thing with her, and I think that’s impossible as a parent, at least in a child’s mind.
I was nine years old and it was during spring break in the fourth grade. It was bad enough that I was the first girl to wear a bra (also in the fourth grade) but I couldnt play like the other girls anymore. It’s difficult to feel “carefree” with a giant pad on. I told my mom when she got home from work later that night and she was relieved she didnt have to explain it to me. I already knew about the reproductive system since I had read every book in our home. She grew up the youngest of nine kids and had 4 older sisters that whispered about the curse and would clam up whenever she asked about it. It wasnt until I was 18 that I started using tampons. I cant believe I suffered as long as I did with the mess and inconveniance of pads. I think I might share that blessed day with my husband about our little girl when it comes, but mostly so he’ll remember she’s a girl and not his rough and tumble partner in crime
I’d just turned thirteen, and it was the day after the sixth grade let out for the summer. My dad and my three younger sisters and I were washing the car in the driveway. We soaked each other with the hose, and when I went inside to take off my wet clothes, I saw a little bit of blood in my underpants. I had a little jolt, but it wasn’t that big a deal to me. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been told all the facts of life a zillion times before.
Of course, my younger sisters were around, and as soon as they heard, they went into that weird fascinated/revolted mode where they decide the best thing to do is alternately make fun of me and act like I’ve got a fatal illness.
I went into the bathroom to get one of those pads that come in those dumb “starter kits”–we’d had one in the bathroom for a couple of years–and my sisters were hovering around outside, asking me annoying questions through the door. My dad happened by, and he asked them what was up. Of course, they didn’t want to tell him, so he got really annoyed and demanded to know.
So I came out and told him. No big deal.
He looked like he took it about like I did–he was a little shocked but hey, no big deal. “Puberty” was a common dinnertime conversational topic at our house anyway.
I was glad when Mom came home from the store or wherever the hell she was, because even though I wasn’t freaked out or anything, her reassurances were helpful just the same.
The story of the day Sister No. 2 got her first period is weird and funny.
Katie’s 14 months younger than me, but she got her period just about 4 months after I did. Only she decided that it was Weird and Humiliating for her to get her period earlier than I did, so she decided not to tell anyone.
She proceeded to steal pads from me and washed out any stains that got on her undies in a mixing bowl full of cold water that she hid in her closet.
I went into her closet one day to borrow some clothes and found the bowl. She told me what was up and begged me not to tell Mom. She wanted to wait until she was the exact age I was when I got my period before telling anyone. Otherwise, she was sure she would be mortified.
Of course, I promised and then went straight to Mom and said, “Hey, that freak Katie got her period awhile ago and is too embarrassed to tell anyone. I’m just telling you so you can buy her her own goddamned pads, and so she can stop hiding her dirty undies in a mixing bowl in her closet. 'Cause that’s just gross.” Mom was highly amused. Katie eventually forgave me.
I was 13. I had missed the school bus (something for which I am still thanking God to this day) and was hanging around waiting for my mom to give me a ride when I suddenly felt an odd trickling sensation. I knew immediately what it was and took off like a shot for the bathroom. Mom followed; I showed her what was going on and she promptly ran to the next room to tell my dad. Why she felt this was information he needed to know is beyond me.
Anyway, Mom only showed me how to use the maxis, so I spent 2 days bleeding like a stuck pig and ruined 2 pairs of jeans and my P.E. shorts before I broke into my older sister’s tampon stash and read the directions.
I felt pretty excited at first, finally catching up to my big sister and all, but the novelty wore off very quickly. Nowadays I just wish it would go the hell away.
I’m somewhat jealous of all you "just a smudge"ers…
My first was Explosive. Within three hours, I had stained my jeans to about mid thigh, completely soaked my panties, and was miserable with cramps.
They haven’t gotten better since- in fact, my most recent one was 14 days long. Yes, fourteen.
To top it off, I wasn’t ALLOWED to use tampons until about 3 months ago.
I have many pairs of pants in my ‘period pile’.
There are mothers who get excited about it?
My mom jokingly called it The Curse and would matter-of-factly tell us that Periods Suck.
My dad would get all indignant and complain, “Don’t tell them that, you’ll make them scared of getting it.”
Nobody celebrated it, but me and my raging hormones were the hot topic of conversation for a long, long time.
I was 9 and a freaking half years old. It was summer vacation before my 5th grade year. Actually a week before school started. I was watching T.V with my legs crossed Indian Style and felt really gooey down there. I went to the bathroom and noticed my underwear were soaked with blood. I told my mom. She got all excited and showed me about pads. She never told me about tampons. I figured them out after studying the little pamphlet that comes in the box. I was very unhappy with my period at that age. I was the first in my class with their period and boobs. I hated it. Most girls were jealous. I told them getting your period was nothing to be excited about. It sucked. Funny thing is my mom never told me about cramps. It took me 2 years to figure them out. I just always thought I had a bad stomach aches once a month.
I was 11 , and my mother had given me “the books” to read (not something that was talked about in my family) and told me to keep an eye out for “spots of blood”. It was mid winter and we had been sitting around the fire reading, I got up and went to get ready for bed and almost died of shock - blood everywhere. I cried myself to sleep - all I could think of was that I wouldn’t be able to go swimming every day when summer came. I was not happy to have periods intrude on my tomboyish carefree childhood existence at all. I am happy to say that after 40 years of the damned things, I can go swimming everyday again. (somehow it doesn’t have the same appeal as when I was 11, though)
I was 12, had been playing baseball all afternoon, and felt crampy in my lower back. Went to the bathroom and saw the bloodstains. I’d had the Talk.
I remember just thinking, oh wow, my first period, this is exciting yet kinda sucky. I had always been pretty much of a tomboy.
This was back in about 1966, my mom was happy for me but I also remember that menstruation seemed to be this big secret that we had to keep away from my dad and brothers. She offered me that silly belt and bulky, chafing pads. Ugh.
My misinformed mother said I was too “young” for tampons.
Within the next few months, I got some on my own.
I was 14, and it was the summer before high school. I was relieved, because I was the only one of my friends who hadn’t had her period yet, and they all were a bit surprised. It wasn’t a big deal, like some other women mentioned, it was more brownish and only lasted 2 or 3 days. I had a couple pads from school sex ed (which first started when I was in 4th grade). My mom was a nurse and I though it was cool to read her textbooks, so I was pretty prepared. I told my stepmother, because she promised to take me to a fancy restaurant once I “became a woman.” That didn’t happen.
The next month was a bit of a shock. I was visiting my mom when it happened. I was expecting it to be like the first time, which wasn’t a big deal. Instead, it seemed like the Red Sea. My mom bought me some tampons, and that was that.
As a guy, I know I’m not supposed to be in here, but I hadn’t seen anything from jarbabyj in a while and wanted to say “hey, there.”
Also, I’d like all of you ladies to know that I’m getting married on November 1. My new stepdaughter is 12, already has a tendency to be moody, and has not yet started her period. My soon-to-be wife is 47 and her periods are becoming rather sporadic. I will be the only male in a house with a newly pubescent girl and a menopausal wife. If you need me, I’ll be in the garage for, oh, the next 10 years.
Mine happened the third day of eighth grade. It was very light, but I knew what it was. When I told my mom she asked me “Are you okay?” Then I started to panic… was I NOT supposed to be okay?
In a Catholic household NOTHING of this nature was discussed so I got all my information from 6th grade sex ed and my friends… you can imagine what kinds of things my demented 13-year old brain was coming up with. Mom took me to the store and bought me Stayfree maxi pads, and I started using tampons about a year later.
I thought I was the only weird one who started with “just a smudge”. I started on the day before the first day of seventh grade. I remember being grossed out when it got heavier. On the other hand, I was relieved that I wasn’t getting severe cramps like my mother used to get (she had had a hysterectomy the summer previous). After the first one was over, I was depressed that I would have to go through this EVERY SINGLE MONTH for a long, long time.
hey plnnr! Good luck with all that ‘lady stuff’! Does anyone remember that episode of King of the Hill when Connie gets her period and Hank wraps her up in a blanket to take her to the emergency room?
I laughed for days.
It was January 4, 1993. I was 12. Sunday night, right before school started up after Christmas break. I went to the bathroom before I went to bed, noticed a few spots, and screamed “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!” She came running, thinking I was dying, I’m sure, and I showed her my undies. She was so excited! “Oh, my little girl’s becoming a woman. Can I tell your father?”
NO! God, why do they think our dads need to know this stuff?!?!
No friggin’ kidding! Similar to Little Bird, I just started using Depo and am having sweet dreams of the day when I’m no longer squirting from the crotch on a monthly basis. 
But yeah, I wanted it.
I wanted it because my best friend (in the 6th grade) had it. So I started wearing pads anyway, just to be able to “bond” with her.
Uh . . . that is, until my mom noticed that her pads were disappearing, and asked me about it . . . :o
She kindly requested that I not use them until I needed them.
The funny thing, considering that I was totally in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret mode before I got my period is that I can’t really remember much about when it finally started for me.
I remember that I was in our basement bathroom, and that I was wearing blue underwear, when I discovered it.
I remember going to my mom and asking if I could use her pads, and her asking if I did, in fact, need them this time. (Other than that, she didn’t make a big deal.)
I remember not initially understanding that I could not go the whole day on one pad, the way I had before my period (so there were some “incidents” at school which, I believe, went thankfully undetected).
I remember that this problem was solved, in part, by the purchase of bigger pads for me than what my mom was using.
I remember that my mother was adamant that I should not use tampons, and would not buy them for me (my needs were well-met–hell, I was spoiled–but I was not allowed to have a job, and did not get allowance to use at my own discretion). So it wasn’t until high school, when my parents had gone out of town and left me with my grandma and a little bit of “emergency” cash, that I snuck out and bought a box of tampons . . .
But I cannot tell you how old I was, what grade (I think it was 7th or 8th), or anything, when I got my period.
Hmmm. :dubious: