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 had exams during Ramadan,
And I had to fast so no one would bother me.
I normally have low-blood pressure,
And on top of that,
It was hot and I was fasting,
And I had an exam.
It was a bad day.
When I was young,
I used to love finding out about new things before the time was right.
We were at my grandmother’s one time,
When I saw blood on my aunt’s pyjamas.
I was surprised.
I ran to my mother in tears and told her what I saw.
I think I was in the seventh grade when I got my period for the first time.
I didn’t know what it was.
I thought I had injured myself.
But I didn’t feel any pain.
I quickly washed my clothes,
But the blood kept increasing alarmingly.
I understood what a period was was,
But not very well.
Mama never talked to me about it.
When I got it for the first time,
I couldn’t tell her,
Because I could never talk to her about anything.
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
When I was in primary school,
Mama and my teacher talked about periods.
I understood everything about them.
I finished primary school,
And still didn’t get my period.
Mama didn’t stay quiet about it.
She told all my aunts,
That I was going to middle school,
And still didn’t get my period.
This made family gatherings a nightmare for me.
All my aunts would keep asking me,
“You still didn’t get it?”