I first found out about periods when I was around 11 years old.
We were in Saudi Arabia when I started noticing mama’s Always pads.
I didn’t understand what they were,
Or what they were used for.
All I knew was that they were mama’s,
And that she used them,
But I didn’t understand why.
Then she told me,
But I didn’t understand.

The reason why the poetess wants to leave her busy life behind and focus on simpler things hasn’t been determined yet.
But I’m sure that I don’t want people around me to assume that my interests are trivial just because I’m a woman.
Or because of the way I look.

When I was a kid,
Mommy would always tell me that God would only start judging me for my actions when I got my first period.
Before that,
My slate was clean,
Because in front of God,
I was still a baby: clean and innocent.
But when I got my first period,
That was it.
We’d be the same.
I’d be a woman.
Grown up and aware,
And accountable for all my actions,
Just like her.

I was having a hard time accepting the changes my body would go through.
I used to see how my mother dealt with her period,
And the blood terrified me.
I was afraid of getting it.
Most of my friends and cousins had gotten it.
I felt sorry for them when they told me the news.

I got my period in the 7th grade.
I saw blood stains on my clothes when I was at my grandmother’s.
I ran to the bathroom to wash them off.
I was scared that I had injured myself,
And that mama might beat me up, or tell baba and then he’d beat me up.
womanhood, period, parents

Mama forgot to explain periods to me.
The first time I got my period I was thirteen.
All the information I had about periods was from my friends.
womanhood, period

I got my period when I was 10.
I was living in Saudi Arabia at the time,
And where I lived it was mandatory to wear the niqab,
So I always wore it when I went out.
womanhood, period, hijab

I love my dawra [cycle].
I call it dawra.
I don’t like using the word “period,”
Because it makes me feel as if I’m ashamed of it.
It’s one of those words we say in another language,
Because we’re too embarrassed of it.
I refer to it as my cycle because I’m not embarrassed by it.

Why is it wrong for people to know?
Why is it something to be ashamed of?
Why do we use euphemisms such as “I got you-know-what,”
Or “Did you get it?”
Or “Has it shown up?”
Why am I not allowed to go to church when I’m on my period?

My stomach started to ache really badly.
I found blood.
I stuffed a lot of tissues into my underwear.
I burst into tears and kept crying for some time.
My mother eventually found my stained shorts.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
I didn’t know what to say.
We had never exactly been close.
womanhood, period