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T here was a joke I heard a lot growing up about people who get their periods. It makes my blood boil when I think of it now, but when I was a teenager under constant pressure to be pleasant and agreeable, all I could do was try to laugh it off. So many of us still carry that shame when it comes to our periods. We hide tampons up our sleeves so no one will see us carrying them to the bathroom. My room was on the second floor, and I shared a bathroom with my brother. Our parents were down the hall.
I was 11, and it was the day of the school play. I went to the bathroom, and when I looked down into the toilet I thought, Oh my God. There's blood in there. I'm dying. I can picture myself rolling my eyes and trying to get away. That day I was truly terrified. I grabbed my mom, crying, and showed her the blood. She handed me a giant, puffy pad and told me not to worry—no one would see it.
This thing was as unwieldy as a diaper, sticking out both sides of my underwear. Would I be able to go on? Would I ever live it down? What can I do while I have my period?
Will I be able to be active? Will I still be able to participate in all the fun activities I like to do? I wish I knew then that there would be nothing to worry about. The show went on. I played my part, and it was great. But I have to admit that, more than 30 years later, I sometimes still feel out of my depth with this thing my body does. Periods can be mysterious. They come and go. You can find yourself waiting for it, and you can be blindsided by it. Listening to those signals helps me feel prepared.