Every child learns about grown ups by observing, don't they?
When I was very young and wanted to play quietly, I would go to my parents room and play at my Mum's dressing table. It had a range of drawers. Two large shaped corner ends that pulled out to reveal 3 shelves in each side. There were three large drawers across the centre and there was a compartment across the top of this, where Mum kept some toiletries. On the left side (facing) the large shaped corner pull out drawer always had packets of pads, which I'd asked about. Mum told me these were for grown ups, which only women used.
Sometimes I'd play at the dressing table in my bedroom, which I shared with my older sister. She also had a packet of these pads, so I knew she was a grown up. I started to notice how often my sister complained of stomach cramps, she'd always get changed into her nightwear on these occasions and Mum would fetch a hot-water bottle for her, which she'd place across her stomach. I'd asked if it was 'wind', my sister had been annoyed with my question and told me to "Mind your own business and leave me alone!". I asked my Mum who had smiled and told me it wasn't 'wind'. My sister often cried with the pains and went to bed early.
I remember going to the toilet one day when I was about nine years old and being surprised to notice I'd grown hair 'down there'. When had that happened? I knew it hadn't always been there, I could definitely remember not having it. A few months later I was having pains, I'd tried to go to the toilet without success.
Curled up on my Mum's bed in the greatest pain I'd ever experienced, I found myself staring at the corner sliding drawer. I lay on my side, as still as possible in the most comfortable position I could find, with my knees tucked up and hugging my lower abdomen. It seemed like hours before the pain subsided enough for me to feel able to move. When I did, I took one of my Mum's pads with me to the bathroom.
These occasions were not regular events for a couple of years, I rarely needed to visit my Mum's store of pads until I was 11 years old. At which point, it did become more of a problem as I was apparently the only one in my year who was often producing letters for school to excuse me from Swimming.
The teacher was annoyed with me whenever I did give her one of these notes. Although I was glad of it if only because it at least meant I avoided the ordeal of the changing rooms. It was incredibly difficult to conceal the obvious differences between myself and the rest of the girls in my class without also drawing their attention.
In my last year of Juniors, when I was 12 years old, there was a huge fuss made and the Teacher explained to the class that a dirty 'Used' pad had been found in the cloakrooms. I was not only not responsible for this but appalled. My Teacher also seemed to be talking to me. A few weeks later they discovered another dirty pad in the girls toilets and again the Teacher addressed the class about this. Maybe it was because I was so acutely aware of the implications and my embarrassment that it seemed that the teacher was directing her complaints at me.
She was nothing like the teacher Sidney Poitier played in one of my favourite films at the time. I knew how to deal with being a bit more grown up through that film, I just wished I had a teacher like him, but then, I was also a lot younger than the students he taught.
