That’s right. I’m going there.
Call it what you will; it is an inevitable rite of passage to womanhood.
It’s also a topic that as my friend and I once put it, the sort of thing that makes you plug yours ears and sing, la la la la la la, until the person stopped the torture.
I don’t know to many women in my life who have felt comfortable talking about the very thing that turns us into a woman, let alone tell their story of the first time they received their period, until I recently read a book appropriately titled, My Little Red Book.
Until I read this, I didn’t realize that most stories of women’s transition in to womanhood was not as thrilling as they thought it would be. Which is a relief, because the story of “my first” could have easily made it into this book.
So what exactly does this book have to say?
Here is the skinny: It is a miscellany of stories of first periods written by women of all ages, of all backgrounds, and from all corners of the world. Some of the stories are hilarious, mortifying, stoic, and almost heroic.
Things I didn’t realize: That there have been many myths associated with periods. In fact, one father told her daughter she could not work in the garden while on her period because it would kill the plants. Scientists tried to prove this theory but failed. Duh.
Overall: I think the author’s purpose for writing this book is hoping for a change in attitude and perception on how we talk about our periods, especially to our daughters. I feel as though she hopes that it will bring mothers and daughters to the table and begin talking to each other, because lets face it; Girls have a lot of questions, even if they don’t ask.
So I have to ask. Are you bold enough to tell your first period story to a public audience?