I recently re-read a book called My Little Red Book-a compilation of first period stories written by women from all over the world. I read it for the first time maybe two years ago and tried to nudge my then 12-year-old daughter to read it. When I told her what it was about, she screwed up her face and said, “Ew. I am not gonna read that.” I left it with her, anyway-hoping she might read it on the sly. (Shh–I think she eventually did.)
Last week, I realized it was my turn to pick the book for my entirely-Mormon-women-book-club. I considered several books but ended up picking this one because it was different from some of the books we’ve read recently (i.e. Unbroken, Anne Frank Remembered, The Chosen One, 19 Varieties of Gazelle, and Left to Tell: Discovering God amidst the Rwandan Holocaust) and because the idea of sharing first period stories intrigues me.
Me, I don’t have a story. I seriously don’t remember it. Brent once asked me whether it felt like a rite of passage, whether my parents did anything to celebrate or to mark the occasion, whether I was excited to tell my friends (whah??). I immediately answered “no” to all of his bizarre questions. Before reading this book, it never even occurred to me that this would be considered a rite of passage or that it was worthy of celebration. All I remember is rolling my eyes, sighing, and thinking, “Here we go . . .” I didn’t tell a soul.
I share that with many of the contributors to the book. The event that got the whole project started was the editor’s elderly aunt telling her that she got her first period-at age 13-while fleeing Poland to escape being deported to a concentration camp. Her period saved her from being strip-searched by Nazis at the German border. Another woman wrote about being slapped by her mother when she told her she had started her period. Apparently, this is an old custom intended to shock a girl out of childhood. That’ll do it.
Watch this video clip to hear from the editor:
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The stories come from all over the globe, a wide range of ages, educational and professional backgrounds, and a few mother/daughter pairs. There are a few essays penned by famous women-don’t miss Gloria Steinem’s spot-on essay called “If Men Could Menstruate.” It’s funny and sad to imagine how different the world would be if it were men rather than women who menstruated. Steinem nails the potential funny/sad contradictions.
But most of the two and three page essays are written by ordinary women like me.
I also love the book because the editor (Rachel Kauder Nalebuff) inspires me. As a young college student, she became aware of an issue (in this case, women should talk about this more to lessen the stigma/taboo associated with it) and decided to do something about it. She put out a call for submissions and advertised it everywhere possible and put together a book. And she is donating the proceeds to these charitable organizations that seek to improve the living conditions for girls and women in developing nations:
- The Health and Water Foundation helps to provide water, private toilets, and sanitary supplies to rural schools so that girls in Kenya can continue going to school after they begin menstruating.
- Seva Mandir supports women’s empowerment and health education programs in Udaipur, India.
- Girls Inc. promotes girls’ empowerment through extracurricular educational programs–some of which teach girls to see beyond gender stereotypes and learn how to take responsibility for their own bodies
- Planned Parenthood, the largest provider of sexual education and health services in the U.S., works to promote public health policy that keeps health-care centers, sexual education, and contraception affordable and accessible.
- Choice USA is a youth-led organization that seeks to protect women’s reproductive rights.
So what do you think? Do we have a responsibility to share these stories, or is it better if we keep them to ourselves?
As with modesty, the more we try to cover it up and act like it isn’t a natural part of life then the more we teach young girls that their bodies are dirty, shameful and that things like their evolving bodies are something that musn’t be discussed. While the topic of this definitely has the ability to make me squirm a bit, I think it is something that we should be more open about with our girls. That way when it does happen, it’s not such a shock to the system and maybe they can see it as a step to becoming more mature. I think hearing from other’s experiences would be quite helpful! And we shouldn’t wait for the sex-ed/health class in middle school to address it first.
It makes me a bit squeamish as well. And I find that fascinating. That’s why I thought Gloria Steinem’s piece was so funny. When she says if men could menstruate, they would brag and boast about it, “I’m a three pad man!” and there would be all sorts of chest-bumping about it. Not so with women.
And just the little bit in the intro about what the onset of menstruation means for girls in developing countries. Or, she points out that for girls who were slaves, when they started menstruating, they were able to be sold away to another farm or allowed to be used for “breeding” by the white master. So hard to imagine. I can see trying to keep it hush-hush for as long as possible in those cases . . .
There’s been some research (please don’t make me me look it up–on the way out the door to work) on mother’s attitude to daughter about period/cramps and rates of complaints of PMS/PMDD. The fascinating take away lesson for me was as we are matter of fact, describe it as not the end of the world, dirty, etc. the next generation tends to be less symptomatic, and have better attitudes about their cycle. Imagine that!
So, a couple months ago when my daughter came in showing me what was in her underwear I hugged her and did a big huge happy dance and pretty much made a fool of myself over the whole thing. :)
A few years earlier, I was visiting a friend and she pretty much did the same thing for me when I told her I was entering menopause, and it made me feel silly, but really good, too.
When my daughter starts in earnest–apparently for some girls there’s a few months of warming up to it?–there will be a big something to mark the occasion.
I’ve heard of the book, but haven’t read it yet. I’ll get it on my list. I had read Steinem’s piece, though, and it is perfect! Thanks for this review–it’s coming at the perfect time for my household.
Very interesting comments, Elizabeth. I just can’t imagine doing a happy dance or marking the occasion–for myself or for my daughters. My husband told me that he hoped when I talked to our girls about it, I used a positive tone and said nice things about it . . . but I’m usually pretty matter-of-fact. I tell them it’s a pain and it sucks, but it’s part of life.
That’s probably not what he means by using a positive tone, huh . . .
Huh, interesting. I don’t know how much I really care to know about everyone’s menstrual experiences, but oh well. I do remember my first period – at YW camp (German style, with no lame dress codes). I think I was kind of surprised and clueless, and I do remember going to my mom (she happened to be at camp with us). That’s about all I remember. I think she sat down with me and talked a little. That’s about it. Can’t remember much more than that.
It does seem odd to me now that I was so apparently clueless. I think I was 11 or 12. Shouldn’t I have known what was going on? I also remember another girl at the same camp, having her period and I guess it all leaked totally on her underpants, and she was laughing while she was rinsing out her bloody panties in the bathroom. Totally not self-conscious (or at least not outwardly so), which seems great to me. Life as a teenager is awkward enough.
I’d like to make sure my daughters are well prepared and don’t feel awkward about this part, but I also don’t know about celebratory dances. After all, I find having a period rather annoying and uncomfortable.
I have to say though, my 2-year old is already fully informed. She’s seen me using tampons, and, of course, had to inquire what I was doing. So, I explained that I was bleeding from my vagina (and omitted the curses that I was already having period a few months after giving birth!). Then a few days later, I caught her with one of my tampon that she was, urm, trying to use. Ha! I explained that she didn’t need it just yet, only if she was bleeding, too. But, I guess that covers the topic and I don’t have to talk to her about this again, right? :)
Over at The Exponent the RS lesson currently being discussed is teaching children about chastity but also about sexuality/reproduction. (But it’s gotten completely derailed, so maybe only look at the OP)
I guess the happy dance isn’t “Yeah! Welcome to bloating and cramps!” but welcome to your new amazing body and the power it contains. That seems better than the slap in the face approach.
Got the book. Some very fun stories. I’ve used a few as bedtime stories for my daughter since I picked it up. Thanks for writing about it.
Hey, Elizabeth. Cool! How old is your daughter?
She will be 11 on the 28th. So, bedtime stories probably does sound funny. She’s been reading to herself at night for years now–it was nice to read together again. I’ve got to find something else we can share to read.