My period was a secret, a shame. Eine schade. I pull whatever runs between my legs into a curtain, a veil. I'm not a woman, but a girl. I'm not a girl but a sexless thing, an animal, a robot, a nothing, a wisp, a ghost.
At the end of class on Friday, Tina and I are the last ones in the room, putting up the chairs. Tina is my best friend - we chatter about everything. It's raining outside, sometimes heavy enough to be a visitor, rattling and knocking the window, streaking it.
Tina - "I've got a secret...."
"What?" I'm excited, sure it will be about some new crush or yummy gossip.
"I got my period last night."
"Did you get yours?"
"Yeah, a few months ago."
"Why didn't you tell me?," she wanted to know, shocked, as if
I had breached her trust. I didn't have a ready answer, was too mute
to explain myself. I didn't know it was something a girl could look
forward to, brag about....I never even think of telling her about my
period. I assume everyone is as ashamed about it as me.