Mine did, bought me books about sex facts and all, but at age 11 I was too young to really understand any of that. My first period was unforgettable and, in my mind, very chic. I woke up to bloody white sheets in a hotel bed in Firenze:
-- "Eww, mom! This hotel is dirty!"
-- "Haha. No, Nora, it's you!"
-- "Uuhh..."
-- "Yes, it's you. Haha"
So it was established I was the dirty one, that it was natural and normal, and I spent a week walking with my legs a little bit far apart, so as not to squeeze the pad, still unaware of where exactly that blood was coming out of.
You are the most cosmopolitan person I think I've ever not met. I don't have periods but I'd love to not have them in Firenze. If you tell me you were within a kilometre of the Uffizi, I shall be jealous but also slightly drawn to the idea of you becoming yourself surrounded by the afterglow of the renaissance.
All I've got is that I was once a foetus in Paris. I'm glad I was, and all, but the views weren't great.
This is so beautiful a reply that I don't want to ruin it with the silly thought I had. Nor do I want to leave it without the acknowledgement I owe it... You've made it difficult, dappypantalone! :P But I... Can't... Control... Mys...
Why, the views weren't great from the Finestra Incestuosa? I hear you're still looking for similar view till this very day, Signore. Haha.
[La Fenêtre Incestueuse, Une Biographie] seems like an awesome title. Aaaand... You're welcome! :D
Uuh... no, I got my period at age 11. When I was probably 5 or 6 I was introduced to the classic Where Did I Come From by Peter Mayle and the unforgettable image created by Arthur Robins, that sperm in a top-hat, sitting on a heart, holding a rose to offer the egg he was on his way to meet. Then when I was 9 I got the very enlightening Facts of Love, where there was another unforgettable image, that of two young men, one circumcised and another uncircumcised, on the same page. Haha. That's pretty much what I learned from those books. We always "talked openly about sex", them being "modern" and all, but in hindsight it was all a façade, really. Mainly on my mother's part. It took me 25 years to realize that she was rather conservative, racist, somewhat prejudiced towards the gay community, and that she had always been the one to suffer with my weight issues - she'd been a model and never been fat. (I think I may be biased and unfair on this depiction of her and that I should say something nice, but it doesn't seem to be the time or place. I just needed to state that.)
So... I guess there was talk, but either it wasn't efficient or I really was too young to understand, as I speculated first.
Did your Mom talk to you about your period?
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Mine did, bought me books about sex facts and all, but at age 11 I was too young to really understand any of that. My first period was unforgettable and, in my mind, very chic. I woke up to bloody white sheets in a hotel bed in Firenze:
-- "Eww, mom! This hotel is dirty!"
-- "Haha. No, Nora, it's you!"
-- "Uuhh..."
-- "Yes, it's you. Haha"
So it was established I was the dirty one, that it was natural and normal, and I spent a week walking with my legs a little bit far apart, so as not to squeeze the pad, still unaware of where exactly that blood was coming out of.
--
dappled
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VioletTrees
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You are the most cosmopolitan person I think I've ever not met. I don't have periods but I'd love to not have them in Firenze. If you tell me you were within a kilometre of the Uffizi, I shall be jealous but also slightly drawn to the idea of you becoming yourself surrounded by the afterglow of the renaissance.
All I've got is that I was once a foetus in Paris. I'm glad I was, and all, but the views weren't great.
--
NoraBaker
10 years ago
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This is so beautiful a reply that I don't want to ruin it with the silly thought I had. Nor do I want to leave it without the acknowledgement I owe it... You've made it difficult, dappypantalone! :P But I... Can't... Control... Mys...
Why, the views weren't great from the Finestra Incestuosa? I hear you're still looking for similar view till this very day, Signore. Haha.
[La Fenêtre Incestueuse, Une Biographie] seems like an awesome title. Aaaand... You're welcome! :D
She didn't talk to you until age 11, though? That would've been too late for me.
--
NoraBaker
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Uuh... no, I got my period at age 11. When I was probably 5 or 6 I was introduced to the classic Where Did I Come From by Peter Mayle and the unforgettable image created by Arthur Robins, that sperm in a top-hat, sitting on a heart, holding a rose to offer the egg he was on his way to meet. Then when I was 9 I got the very enlightening Facts of Love, where there was another unforgettable image, that of two young men, one circumcised and another uncircumcised, on the same page. Haha. That's pretty much what I learned from those books. We always "talked openly about sex", them being "modern" and all, but in hindsight it was all a façade, really. Mainly on my mother's part. It took me 25 years to realize that she was rather conservative, racist, somewhat prejudiced towards the gay community, and that she had always been the one to suffer with my weight issues - she'd been a model and never been fat. (I think I may be biased and unfair on this depiction of her and that I should say something nice, but it doesn't seem to be the time or place. I just needed to state that.)
So... I guess there was talk, but either it wasn't efficient or I really was too young to understand, as I speculated first.