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Read Lynn Peril's history of menstrual-education booklets for girls, Growing Up and Liking It.

See some covers of Growing Up and Liking It , How shall I tell my daughter, - both menstrual education booklets - and Personal Digest booklets.


Dear Harry [Finley, the museum director],

Hi! A while ago I wrote a story about my experience with puberty and growing up for my zine. I thought about this Web site which has taught me so much and I thought I would share it with you.

Thanks for all you've done for me, and womyn like myself.

Michelle

Before I Grew Up

My mom had these peculiar toys in the bathroom. Inside a pink-and-white wrapper was a plunger, almost like a gun. When you pushed the end of that plunger, a long cotton cylinder-shaped thing, with a string attached, shot out. I used to lock the door of the bathroom, drop them in the toilet, watch them expand, and wondered why my mom could keep such a fun thing from me.

When I first learned about "the weekly curse" I thought how strange it would be to see blood spurting out of my belly button. Yes, my belly button. That was the only hole I knew of "down there."

Eventually my friend Laura told me where my period really came from. She talked me into trading one of my mom's tampons for one of her mom's pads. I didn't know why I had it and convinced myself I would get in trouble for even possessing such an item. The pink, plastic-wrapped package was secretly stowed in the back of my underwear drawer where I prayed it would never be seen.

Around that same time I started growing two odd-shaped, fatty lumps on my chest. I was one of the only girls in the fourth grade who had breasts.

Excited at the fact I was becoming a womyn, I shyly asked my mom to take me shopping for a bra. A couple of weeks later the two of us went to Marshal Fields department store. I was so embarrassed to be in the underwear section. Old ladies looked at panties while the sales lady measured me, and my cheeks grew hotter. I hated being there and I had no idea what had possessed me to desire a brassiere.

When we finally arrived home I stowed my package of two white cotton bras in my underwear drawer. They rested next to the single pad that gained lint and dust from non-use.

My chest kept growing and I didn't understand why it didn't stop. My breasts were so much larger than the other girls' at school. They bounced when I walked and my school blouses became harder to button. My mom kept asking me why I wasn't wearing a bra, and her best friend told me my boobs would sag to my waist if I didn't.

I pulled one of the cotton training bras out of my drawer and put it on. I stared at myself in the mirror: it was already too tight. However, I wore it anyway from fear of another trip to the underwear section.

Eventually I started growing random hairs in a particular part of my body. I was sure it was a strange disease, and was ashamed. I used some old tweezers to pull out the hairs and watched them swirl in the water as I flushed them down the toilet.

One weekend, around the same time, I remember being at my dad's house and stealing a bottle of his Right Guard deodorant. I stowed it in my pants until I got to my mom's house. Afraid to use it, I hid it in the Kleenex box in my bedroom. Sometimes, I'd take it out, look at it, open the cap, smelling it while I felt it on my fingers.Then, closing it quickly, I'd stow it back in its hiding spot, wash my hands, hoping my mom wouldn't smell the lime-ish sent and catch what I was doing.

It was one chaotic event after another, it seemed. I got my period during the Christmas season at a family party. Too proud to be scared and to scared to be proud, I stole a pad out of the cabinet of the house we were staying in. Being 11 years old with blood running out between your legs and a big bulge of pad stuck to your underwear doesn't sit too well at a family dinner. It seems that everyone is staring at you, as if they can see through your pants with smirks on their faces. Which is all thanks to the overactive 11-year-old imagination.

After a week of bloody clumps of toilet paper and nightly tears, the flow finally stopped. I'd never been so embarrassed and mortified about anything.

In seventh grade, at ages 11 and 12, girls were already shaving there legs. I began to notice the masses of hair on my own legs and felt the need to shave. One night, I locked myself in the bathroom, razor in hand. I had never shaven, or even seen any one shave before.

I loaded Gillette cream onto my legs and started gliding the razor across my skin. As I was finishing my first leg, I cut a large, deep wound into the area just above my ankle. Who knew I shouldn't press so hard? I still have a scar. I couldn't bring myself to shave again soon after that night.

In the summer, a few months after the shaving episode, I went to overnight camp. An older, eighth-grade girl came up to me, questioning if I shaved. I said yes, because I had in fact shaved my legs once before. That is when she squatted down, inspected my legs for hair, and said, "Well, it's been a while."

She took me to the fountain sink in the girls bathroom, where I watched the girls in my bunk shave earlier. Handing me a razor and cream, she stood there staring, shaking her head as she watched me shave.

It was degrading and I'll never forget it. I shaved incessantly, everyday, for months after. I smile, now, at the thought of that as I feel the wind blow through my leg hair. I have more hair on my legs than on my head.

It's scary to go through all that and have no idea why. If only I knew all the stuff then that I now know about my body.


Read Lynn Peril's history of menstrual-education booklets for girls, Growing Up and Liking It.

See some covers of Growing Up and Liking It , How shall I tell my daughter, - both menstrual education booklets - and Personal Digest booklets.


news | first page | contact the museum | art of menstruation | artists (non-menstrual) | belts | bidets | Bly, Nellie | MUM board | books (and reviews) | cats | company booklets directory | costumes | cups | cup usage | dispensers | douches, pain, sprays | essay directory | extraction | famous people | FAQ | humor | huts | links | media | miscellaneous | museum future | Norwegian menstruation exhibit | odor | pad directory | patent medicine | poetry directory | products, current | religion | menstrual products safety | science | shame | sponges | synchrony | tampon directory | early tampons | teen ads directory | tour (video) | underpants directory | videos, films directory | washable pads | LIST OF ALL TOPICS

 

© 1998 Michelle Mann. It is illegal to reproduce or distribute work on this Web site in any manner or medium without written permission of the author. Please report suspected violations to hfinley@mum.org