And The Flood Gates Opened; My First Period

And the Flood Gates Opened; My First Period

The annual year 7 school trip was to journey by coach to Paris and spend five days exploring and experiencing culture the French has to offer to broaden our understanding of the world around us (with a day trip to Disney Land Paris which was by far the best part of the residential). 

My mother had packed me a load of sanitary pads in my suitcase - even though I had asked her not to!  How embarrassing if someone saw them - right?! And just like I had predicted I had survived the whole trip thus far without staining my knickers with red. Therefore when it came to packing my suitcase to come home the thought of stashing some pads in my coach bag 'just incase' didn't even cross my mind. I was completely naive to the hormones that were about to explode... literally. 

It was a full days travelling to get back home from our hotel we were staying in, in Paris. 'Early' early we were made to climb out of our beds and onto the coach. My experience from waking up too early is that you feel sick, especially when you haven't been able to have breakfast! Therefore the ache in my stomach did not surprise me - I was expecting to be a little uncomfortable on the coach before stopping for breakfast. 

The coach wasn't helping with my stomach ache either. Wasn't the most.... comfortable. Think of the old school buses you used to get with the fabric seats that when you thumped them a whole load of dust came out? Oh! And you could never trust a crease or pocket on the seats because there was bound to be some old chewing gum stuck to the side? It was like that... but on a coach. On a coach that felt like a never ending journey going at a snails pace. The length of the journey was irritating me a lot more than it did on the way to Paris, however a massive influence of this could have been, I thought, that it was so hot. I was baking. So much so I was even sweating around my butt cheeks as I was sitting down, making it feel like I had peed my pants. 

At the first stop I ventured to the toilet. Found a cubical, pulled down my pants and saw a fresh red liquid coating the cotton of my underwear. 

I knew none of my friends had anything to help as they had yet to reach this stage of womanhood. This was it! I am now a young lady! My body has told me I am ready to bare a child and be a responsible adult! In all the novels I had read where a girl gets her first period it is described as a massive mile stone of paramount importance - a wonderful experience where she discovers what it is like to be a woman! 

This was a load of bollocks.  I. Was. Freaking. Out.

A teaspoon of blood?! A TEASPOON OF BLOOD A MONTH?! Who the hell created that lie?! They all knew! Every teacher I have ever had that taught me Sex Education lied! I bet they used to come out of the classroom chuckling to themselves - waiting for the perfect opportunity to say "Tricked ya! Now bleed to death!!!" 

I felt betrayed - but the biggest betrayal I felt was from my own mother! "Oh you will hardly notice it when it starts - its not a big deal." NOT A BIG DEAL?! There was freaking red river leaking out of my vagina! 

I questioned weather this was even normal and if I was going to die! However I can only deduce I wasn't too worried about dying because I had made the decision I could not tell any teacher; that would have been too embarrassing! Talking to Dr Fox about what was currently leaking out of my lady hole? I don't think so! Besides I had decided I couldn't bleed that much more, therefore the damage was done. I was going to keep quiet. 

This was the worst decision I could have made. 

What is missing from Sex Education in school, along the discussion of periods and puberty, is that your first period will be the heaviest mother-fucking period you'll ever have!!! Therefore, if you start your period for the first time and won't have access to any tampons or pads for the next couple of hours the WORST thing you can do is keep quiet.

By the time we had reached the second stop the red river had leaked through my jeans. I was past the point of no return. Even if I did want to ask for help I couldn't do it now! This was even more humiliating than before! I had been sitting in a puddle of my own period blood that had ventured through the fabric of my jeans. 

My horror did not stop there! Oh no, I had not been humiliated enough! As I sat up and turned around I realised the blood that had been leaking out of my vagina, through my knickers and through my jeans, was attacking the fabric of the coach chair. There was a red stain.

For the rest of the journey I had to strategically sit in the same red spot as to not make the strain more noticeable than it already was, then tie my jumper around my waist to hide the stain on my jeans when I got up. 

All of this was because I was too worried to tell a teacher in the first place. 

Lesson learnt? Always listen to your mother when she tells you to pack spare sanitary pads.