The more we talk about it, the less embarrassing it gets.”“So, we’re going to keep having these conversations.
Because you need to know you can come to me about anything.
And yes, I used the word menstruation and period and time of the month and your friend “Flow”. As we were finishing up, my almost 11-year old daughter walked into the room.“Whatcha guys talking about? I waited for her older sister to shout: “Run for your life!
It makes me nauseous, anxious and and a little bit dizzy all at the same time. We went shopping and to lunch and ate dinner together as a family regularly. But as I entered the teen years, despite our good relationship, there were things we didn’t talk else I might not have known what to expect or what to do.It wasn’t that my mother had made certain topics intentionally taboo. I was in the middle of a play-by-play of what it was like to have your period, and I wasn’t sparing details.“Mom, can’t I just read the book? ” my daughter remarked.“This is way more information than I needed to know.”“Well, you should know about this stuff. I was desperately hoping she didn’t see the blush creeping up my cheeks.I know I must have these conversations with my girls — these anxiety provoking, awkward, excruciatingly embarrassing conversations — because their futures depend on it.
I talked with my daughter about the whole menstruation process from beginning to end…well, at least everything I knew about it.
As a result, my period starting was only one of many things I didn’t share with my mother as I got older.
I didn’t talk to her when most of my friends started having sex with their boyfriends, or when I started pushing these intimate boundaries myself.
We’ll totally be covered.”They turned and hurried up the stairs before I could even think of a response. My prude, Pollyanna self got through an embarrassing conversation and I didn’t die.
We all survived and next time I know it will be a little less mortifying.
Most importantly, I’m know there will be a next time and a time after that…..