yes.

Yes. I mean no. Wait, wrong thread!

Oh no! I was too!

I was starting to worry by then. See, I started with the secondary sex characteristics at ten, stopped growing taller at 11, reached 34B status at 12, and still didn't have my period. So when I finally got it a couple months before my thirteenth birthday I was relieved. It was the only thing left undone and I'd been afraid it wouldn't happen.

At the time this was precocious, understand, not like today where it's probably average to start at twelve. There's always that little handful, two or three girls, who get the first real bras and such. And it leaves one highly vulnerable. Where I went to school, the consequences of being an "early bloomer" were terrible.

On top of that, I had horrible prolonged heavy sickening periods. Just awful. It wasn't until a couple of years ago that I learned that fibromyalgia does that. I always figured it was endometriosis or something. Most of my life the pill was the only thing that got me through, turned those beasts into more *normal* periods.

But at least I knew I'd made it. I was done. And when I could get away from harsh reality and back into what I thought things should be like, socially I mean, I was thrilled. I'd crossed that line, made that rite of passage. I greatly disliked being a child and now no one could really call me that any mroe. Even though, of course, I still was.

And the funny thing is, when I read your post, I'd just been drafting up a post on peri-menopause. And on how nice it was to get a real period just now.

Ahem. Okay, I am not a member of the, uh, other leading major gender. The, er, feminine one. And therefore blood from any orifice is a cause for immediate concern, if not frantic panic.

However, I remember a page length comic in a National Lampoon issue, late '70s, on this exact topic. It was captionless, and featured two young women (girls, really) determined to try tampons for the first time, as a rite of passage. It followed their misadventures and discomfort and incredulity until the final panel, which had them walking proudly, a tiny little string dangling visibly between their legs. Incidentally, it was not graphically explicit.

I have no idea who drew it... at the time it seemed merely weird to me. Still does, in retrospect. But weird was what National Lampoon did best, back then, when they were funny.

Charming

My mom was open and very matter-of-fact about periods (and all reproductive questions) for as long as I could remember. So I approached the day actually looking forward to it. Like you, it seemed to me one of those markers that annouced...Today you are a woman.

Happened exactly 3 days after my 12th birthday. I was thrilled! It was a bright spot in the midst of all the physical changes I was going through....my 11th birthday signaling the start of puberty and a growth spurt that took me from 5 foot even, to 5 foot 7 inches when my period started.

I was as open, approachable and matter of fact with my girls. No depressions or freaking out. Just "hey, mom, come see what happened!"...and upping the total boxes of pads and tampons to buy at the market

Steve, I'd love to see that National Lampoon bit.

Guys, you seem to be dealing with this post with impressive fortitude.

I don't even remember. It seemed like kind of a non-event, like sweating--er, perspiring. ;-) You know, something you don't show off, but it happens and you just deal with it all the same. A minor inconvenience. I never had to deal with the horrors of PMS that some do, though, so there ya go. (I also had a ridiculously easy pregnancy--maybe I was meant to be a "breeder!" haha)

And I do believe this would be the first time I've ever discussed this in a public place. Now I'm starting to freak out, thanks.

Off-topic, sorta, well, not sorta...I clicked the Baby Bella blogad. Cutie stuff!!! (See? Born to breed, I guess. EEEEK.)

It was another tedious purgatory at Aunty Viv's chateau in the Adirondacks, where I disappointed her by overturning china cups of tea & dragging my size 10 feet. Not allowed to wear pants, I was upholstered in a pink organdy knot bristling with lace & tatting. I had just sat down on a padded & priceless 18th Century chair - more like a stool, really - that had once been owned by Mary Shelley. Such a fuss!

What a trashy blog

notice John left off the

PERIOD?

And who are you trying to start a blog war with with this this post?

supposed to be a smiley face on the end of that

No one this time, but I'm always open to a blog war, particularly if the other party is willing to, um, participate.

I just knew it was a delicate subject. However, I had to enquire, because I had suddenly realized that my experience might have been a minority one. And as a writer, I wanted to know about it if that were the case.

John, please come back next week, when I'll be discussing forensic entomology, and the progression of various species of maggots that breed in dead bodies. Either that, or how diet affects the texture of human shit. I haven't quite decided.

Oh. So you'll be linking to Bane next week then?

Can't wait! Both delightly holiday themes!Who says the Algonquin Round Table has been turned to kindling? The new Golden Age?

I think the fact that you wrote this post is pretty good. While it might not mean much to the male readers, the very fact that you posted something deeply personal is, too me, alot of what blogging should be about.

Try to get her started on the thermodynamics of breast-washing

Hm. I'm pretty sure that "Shirley" was Jeff/BA. But there's this chance it was Hubris.

Of course, I could go check the IP log, and figure it out that way. But I'm far far far too lazy.

I enjoyed the subject. As a man who knows little about women, well actually a man who understands NOTHING about women, it was enlightening.

And you are different from every other man how, exactly, Old Gary? :)

I wasn't thrilled -- guess because I'm a guy