My parents have always been aware and informed, thank God.
One time, when I was younger, mama asked me to hand her some pads.
She wanted me to ask her what they were for.
“This is something all girls will need to use someday.
It’s a sign that they’re getting older and lovelier,” she replied simply.
womanhood, period, parents
My sister, who is 3 years younger than me,
Got her period 6 months before I did.
She was 11 years old then,
And I was 14.
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.
My period affects my life to a large degree.
Not just during it,
But also the week leading up to it,
When I’m unable to move.
My body feels weak,
And my legs feel as if they’re being pulled away from my body.
There’s usually a general feeling of exhaustion,
Which continues until my period ends.
I didn’t bleed a lot the first day I got my period,
So there were doubts about whether or not it was actually my period.
It was the worst time of my life.
womanhood, period, gender violence, fgm, virginity testing
I was disgusted at the blood coming out of me.
I saw it the way they did: dirty blood.
Blood that forbade me from praying.
Blood that meant a woman couldn’t sleep with a man—or so say they say.
Blood that I tried to hide.
womahood, period, body image