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
Girls grow up a little bit every day.
They get taller,
Fatter,
And curvier.
They get ready for the day,
When they become ladies.
The first time I got it,
I thought I had injured my privates.
The pain, the shock of seeing blood—it was all new to me.
I had no idea what was going on.
womanhood, body image, period
My family was relatively understanding.
When I was young,
Baba used to always tell people,
“She’s a woman now.”
It made me happy that he saw me that way,
Even though I was still young.
That line used to boost my confidence,
And I knew I could handle anything,
Even if I hadn’t hit puberty,
As opposed to our society,
Which associates puberty with maturity.
I’m a girl,
And I have two brothers.
I’ve always been told that I’m a “reckless” person.
But like I said,
I’m a girl who was brought up around two brothers.
What was I supposed to be like, then?
There was obviously a chance I’d turn out this way.
I always thought I was special.
Or at least that is how my parents made me feel.
I used to watch the older girls from a distance.
I watched them go through through their monthly agony: their period.