This is a story about something that happened to me. It has no theological, or philosophical implications. I can't think of any way to make it more than just something that happened to me. So even though this is technically off-topic for this blog, it's my blog so I'll post it anyways. Complaints, if any, may be submitted below.
My brother got married when I was 13. His wife was tall, athletic and pretty. She had two younger sisters, who were both older than me. They too, were tall, athletic and beautiful. Her dad was a career Marine, he was big, loud and scary. Her mom was one of those pushy women that have a way of making anyone feel like they're five years old. They were all new and unfamiliar to me, we first met on the day before their wedding.
They got married in Colorado because it was the halfway point between where her family and my family lived. After the wedding we all drove to Missouri for their first reception.
About halfway through the reception I started to feel funny. I went to the bathroom and was shocked to see that I had started to menstruate for the first time. Menarche.
I had already gone through several years of sex ed, and knew exactly what was happening, but I didn't know what to do about it. I went and got my mom. I didn't want to tell her there in the cultural hall, so I made her come with me into the bathroom. When I told her, she asked to see my underwear. I didn't want to show her my panties, but knew better than her argue with her. She looked at them and said "Yep, that's it. Just put some toilet paper there and you'll be fine." She left me there, saying that she needed to get back to the receiving line.
Before I went back out I looked at myself in the mirror. "So," I thought, "I'm a woman now, huh?" I didn't feel like a woman. I felt like a short, flat chested 13 year old with goofy hair and wads of toilet paper in her drawers. I had expected to feel pretty. To be tall. To be cool.
When I entered the cultural hall again, my mom was most definitely not in the recieving line. She was standing in a circle of people, including my dad, brother, new sister-in-law, both of her sisters, and her parents. They all turned to me with knowing smiles, my mom had told them all.
I went over to her with intentions of telling her that what she had just done was not cool. As I approached the others wafted away into their own little groups. I asked my mom "Why did you tell them? I didn't want them to know." She made her angry face, and said "It's very special, they deserved to know."
Dad? Sure. My brother? Maybe. His wife? probably not. Her sisters, and Mom? No. Her dad? Heck no!
I was furious, and went to my sisters at the refreshment table to complain. They too got mad at me, and told me that mom is just that way and I shouldn't have expected anything else. That was one of the last times I told my mom anything personal. Every other time I told her something personal I regretted it later, just like I regretted this.