At 13, you have this waiting game for your turn to experience that monthly visitor that would mean you were becoming a woman. Later on you would realize that the countless checks and run to the bathroom when the slightest sensation would make you think it finally came only to be disappointed that you hadn't gotten your monthly. In fact my sister had gotten hers well before me so I guess you can say I was a bit of a late bloomer. At first, even though mine showed up later, I was just like every teenage girl with a period. My mom hadn't really introduced a tampon and had handed me pads.
Then one business trip to Virginia with both my parents and a night at a hotel I had begun my period just as we had decided to go swimming. So my mom
got a tampon and led me to the bathroom and explained what I was going to do with the tampon.
As I reached back to insert I struggled. My mom reached into help a little and the pain was soo bad that I nearly passed out right in front of the toilet. So swimming got skipped and it was other plans.
Over the course of days, weeks, and months the memory of the experience replayed itself in shame, fear, and confusion. Why did it hurt so bad? Wh did I pass out? Was it supposed to hurt that bad? Am I a freak or a big baby? It became a game of white lies during the summer months when friends or my sister would mention swimming and I was having a period.
In ninety grade, my middle school has a Freshman Day as a reward for hard work. They took a bus of 9th graders to a local pool that I had grown up going to during the summers. We were going to also have lunch served by the teachers during our visit. My mom reminded me that I needed my bathing suit as if she seemed to notice that I had forgotten it. I had not started my period but I wasn't feeling my best. When I arrived at the school I realized that my monthly was beginning, so I headed to the nurses office. They handed me a tampon as they knew I was in the grade level going to the pool. I entered the bathroom. I entered in and pealed the plastic wrap off. I tried again to insert. This time it was like I had no vagina. I tried angling and pushing and moving and nothing. Then I realized I just couldn't. So I pretended to toss out the wrapper. I hid the tampon in my pants and went to my locker and shoved the swim suit and backpack into my locker and walked to hometown. I spent the day walking the exercise path outside the pool area with a group of kids. I avoided the inside of the pool to avoid the @why are you not swimming question?" When I got home I somewhat lied to my mom that I had fun. I didn't want her worrying or getting upset. Plus I was embarrassed and ashamed of myself.
This would be when the first time the word "freak" would come to my identity. More fears and more self lack of identifying with other gals. Any thoughts of identifying as a feminine being went out the door with the tampons and the issues.
I would sometimes find my moms anatomy and physiology book and look at the anatomy pics of a vagina. I would look and look and when I could I would find the open box of tampons that my sister would be using and find the directions. I would read and read.
I would visualize and try to visualize the directions but nothing worked. I just became frustrated and closed off and inside myself. This continued up until I entered college.
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