Being a Girl {part Two}

Oddly enough, I haven’t cared much about feedback from others until I started writing these “Being a Girl” things, and, of course, I have had no feedback from the first one. I thought I would be able to continue with as much anger as I did with part one, but writing what I did seems to have dissipated the anger. And then again te fact that it is 3 am may have something to do with the fact that I am not feeling the anger, the outrage, that I did in part one.

Anyway, to continue… My mother’s idea of telling me about menstuation was to say as we passed a drugstore, “Well, I suppose you will be costing me more money soon!” I had absolutely NO idea what she was talkg about so, as usual, I kept quiet. It wasn’t until years later that I connected that remark with having my period. I remember being very frightened when I did start and about being told how to use a sanitary belt and a napkin.

Because my mother was an alcoholic, we practiced the unspoken rule of alcoholics which is isolation. I had no friends as I got older so there was no confiding in a girl-friend. I had no role model for what it meant to be a girl so, like a bird in the grass when danger approches, I kept very very still and hoped no one would notice me. The only exception was school where I continued to be noticed because of my cleverness and my high grades. Reading what I have written, I can now see one of the reasons I became a teacher. School was a refuge and I wanted to stay there as long as I could…