Friday, April 21, 2006
Reflections on Puberty
Today marks the 16th anniversary of the day I became a woman. No, not that day, the other one. The one they talk about in all the puberty books for young girls, right next to diagrams of ovaries and fallopian tubes. Yep, the period.
I was the girl who thoroughly read all those puberty books and I eagerly waited for the day that I would be like Julie. Julie was 14 and she was an animated character in one of my puberty books. For years, I annoyed Mom by suspecting my belly aches were actually cramps ory by excusing myself to the bathroom repeatedly, knowing each time that that would be the day I became a woman. I was wrong on so many occasions.
Little did I know it would happen at a slumber party about a month after my 13th birthday party. There were no fireworks, no embarrassment, no major excitement. Just somebody shoving me a pad and telling me to deal with it. I tried to play it cool since the host, who was younger than me, had started her period months before I did. I raced home, told my mother and then grabbed my puberty book. I remember circling April 21 in my calendar, hoping these changes in my body would lead to a new era.
I wish I knew then what was in store for me. None of those books describe what it's really like to be a woman. No one warned me about the cramps, the acne, the craving for chocolate and the murderous frenzy you get into when someone wears the color green. (Okay, maybe that's just me) Now I want to punch Julie. That heffa didn't tell me about first love, first jobs, rent, mortgages, the IRS and gas prices that make me want to pull my hair out.
Thanks alot, Julie.