Isn’t it too soon for this conversation?

Megan called me the other night to tell me that her friend had gotten her period. Megan was full of questions. Here’s how that conversation went:
Megan: “My friend Torian got her period and she’s younger than me and when I told my dad and asked him about it he told me I am just a little girl and not to worry about it and I don’t want to talk to my stepmom and How old were you, Mom?”
Me (whoa, now): “12”
Meg: “So I’ll be 12?”
Me: (sweet God, I hope not) “well…maybe. Some other things will happen first.”
Meg: “Like what?”
Me: (uh, you will stop sleeping with a nightlight) “your boobs will start to grow, your hips will grow, you’ll probably get some pimples, you’ll start to get darker hair down there…”
Meg: “Really? But what if it comes without all that? Maybe I need to buy some of those ‘things’ just in case.”
Me: (are you KIDDING me? I will NOT feel better) “Some pads? Megan, it doesn’t just come gushing out of you. You will know. There will be spotting.”
Meg: “Hm. Okay.”

So as I’m contemplating the full weight of this conversation, she texts me, “When I come this weekend could we go buy some of those so I feel better?”

She’s eleven. And while I remember being absolutely obsessed with getting my period at that age, I cannot believe these things:
1) That her father still thinks she’s a little girl. I wonder if he will still think that when she’s knocked up at 15. God, WHY doesn’t he wake up??!?!??!
2) That she’s old enough to even KNOW about periods, let alone worry about getting one.
3) That I will be the mother of a teenager soon.

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1 Comment

  1. I still remember my first period and how uncomfortable my mother was talking about *anything*. The word “tampon” was always said in a hushed tone in our house. Megan is a lucky girl to be able to come to you.


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