I was in the sixth grade the first time I got it.
I went to the bathroom,
And discovered that I was bleeding.
I don’t remember if someone had talked to me about it before,
But I remember knowing that I wasn’t injured.
I told my mother and she was happy.
That’s how I knew it was a good thing.
My maternal uncles and grandma visited us the following day.
While we were all having lunch I told them,
“I got my period.”
My uncles got really uncomfortable.
“What do you mean?” my grandma glared at me.
She was trying to tell me to stop talking.
“It means I’ve grown up.
Mama and baba know and they’re happy,” I said.

After lunch, mama and grandma cornered me in the kitchen,
And yelled at me.
They told me I shouldn’t say what I said in front of any man or boy.
I didn’t understand why.

Surely everyone knows.
I’m lucky to have a father who’s very understanding.
He took me to his office,
And explained everything to me.
He sketched the female reproductive system for me,
Explained what happens,
And dealt with the whole thing quite normally.
“Come talk to me if there’s anything you want to understand.
Don’t mind your mother.
She’s comfortable that way,” he said.
I was very happy I understood everything about myself at such a young age.
The fact that I understand my body mattered a great deal to me later on.
I don’t feel that the blood coming out of me is bad or unholy.
The egg just didn’t get fertilized this month.