What Judy Blume didn't tell you

Three words, girls: it's all lies.

From the time I was a budding teenager, 10 going on 13, and the first lessons about sex education came into my life through school classes, novels and my so-much-more-grown-up schoolfriend's copies of Girlfriend magazine, I looked forward to getting my period as a sign I was growing up. It was like a race. The main topics of conversation were who had a bra, whose bra strap got 'snapped' by the boys at lunch time, and whose bra was filled with tissues. No-one talked about the period, but it too was a sign of maturity. Everything I read said so.

I was the last to get a bra, not because I was the last to need one, but probably the girl whose mother held out longest on the peer pressure facing her daughter to get one. The other girls who got one despite not having any need for it just stuffed theirs with tissues. I got my 10A when I was 12 years old, in year 6, and finally felt half-way to grown up. Any day now, surely, I would get my period.

In the mean time I continued to devour Judy Blume books (hell, any kind of reading material, from the Far Eastern Economic Review and BRW to the Babysitter's Club books that my dad so despised). But Judy Blume books had a message- 'becoming a woman' was a wondrous event that girls my age should look forward to. Sure, there might be period pain or whatever, but the bleeding itself was a rite of passage. At least that's what I took away from it, and willed my own body to develop faster. Faster, goddammit! I had breasts, so what the hell was it waiting for?

One month out from my 13th birthday I 'got it' and almost immediately realised how wrong I was. At first I was elated, but by the time it finished 3 days later I was well and truly over it. Could have been happy never to see another period again, despite not experiencing the dreaded 'period pain'.

Things would only get worse from the next time onward. They lasted for exactly 7 days every time, and the pain that sometimes accompanied them made me feel like my insides were about to fall out. I remember going shopping with my Mum once and having to lean on the trolley for support because the pain got so bad. I convinced Mum to buy me Naprogesic, the special 'period' painkiller advertised in Girlfriend magazine. "I don't know what's wrong with Panadol", she would complain. Naprogesic was a lot more expensive. I don't know if it was better, but I convinced myself it was. Even with the Napro it was still pretty bad. And that's not even counting the PMS...

When I was 18 and Gam and I had been together for a couple of months I trotted off to the doctor to get Implanon. Now, Implanon is a magnificent invention that has stopped me from getting pregnant for a good 6 years without having all the worry of taking a pill every day. That's the good part. When the doctor was explaining the potential side-effects of Implanon, she mentioned that around 30% of users stop getting their period while on it. I prayed that I would be one of the 30%. Instead I got the worst mood swings I've ever had, and my periods became horribly irregular. The period pain I get nowadays can be pretty bad- bad enough to go to bed, even- but nothing like it used to be.

However, I can't help feeling on occasion that one of the reasons I haven't gotten pregnant at any point over the last 6 years is because I'm bloody well bleeding all the time and consequently not having penetrative sex. Nice ruse that would be. Convince everyone that the implant in their arm will allow them to have sex without a condom and not get pregnant when the real reason is that it makes their period and 'spotting' so damn frequent that they are essentially participating in an abstinence programme. Sometimes I get lucky and have an extra week without my period instead of suffering through it every 2-3 weeks.

Then there are the weirdo effects on other, seemingly unrelated, parts of the body. My boobs, for example. Why do they need to go up by a full cupsize over the course of 24-48 hours a week or so before getting my period? I go from barely a DD to an E practically overnight and apart from the obvious issues with bras and having to avoid certain tops that I can fit into at other times of the month, they hurt all the damn time. Not to mention because I'm used to sleeping a certain way and can only sleep on my side, I'm forever having to 'adjust' them after inadvertantly elbowing myself in the boob while trying to get comfortable. And shift quickly out of the way when Gam rolls over so he doesn't half lie on one. Oh, and having to hold my arm across my boobs in the shower so the spray doesn't hit my nipples because they are so sensitive it hurts like hell when it does. Then there's the gastrointestinal and bladder side-effects of the damn cycle. I'm regular as clockwork for most of the month because I get plenty of wholegrains, fruit and vegetables in my diet and I drink plenty of water. But every time I'm about to have my period I not only get constipated but it takes me forever to pee, too. Presumably because the uterus gets all bloated and swollen prior to the period and then blocks various passages or something- I wouldn't know. Then as soon as I get my period, for a day or so it's like someone turned on a tap in my intestines. Not quite as bad as having food poisoning, and admittedly something of a relief after being constipated, but why can't everything stay nice and normal all month? It's nuts. Where's the frigging evolutionary advantage in all this?

As if I needed another reason to hate the internal workings that are one of the unfortunate 'facts of life' for nearly everyone with two X chromosomes, I have also recently discovered the joy of ovarian cysts. What these mean, when they arise, is that even when I'm not bleeding they make sex painful by... well, I don't know... taking up space that is meant for other things, I suppose. Pushing on various internal bits and pieces. Not to mention the fact that they hurt the rest of the time too, not just during sex. The period you have when you're not having your period. Swearword swearword swearword.

Now, even if none of these things were the slightest bit painful I would still give up this horrid, bleeding menstrual part of 'womanhood' if I could.

1. It costs money. Pads, tampons, pantyliners, anything to stop you bleeding through your damn clothes, you name it. It adds up to quite a bit over the year. Oh and the fucking painkillers. I resent having to spend even a single red cent saving myself from the perils of my period.

2. It costs time. Time changing pads and tampons, time washing the frigging sheets because your period turned into a fountain overnight, time buying the damn things, time spent in the bathroom because of the damn GI effects, time waiting for the paracetamol to kick in...

3. This. And this. And this.

If Gam and I ever wind up being the parents of a girl I'm going to direct her to this post when she's at a certain age and tell her to enjoy her pre-menarche days while they last. No Judy Blume bullshit for our girls. Sure that was a great step up for teenagers compared with what my Dad's late mother had to go through at boarding school when she got her first period (she thought she was going to die), but it's still a crock of shit. Not having a period was the best. I mean, as a woman what do I have to look forward to when the days of the monthly hell are over? Fucking menopause, that's what. And ain't that a ball of fun?


UPDATE: Gam's reply in the column has prompted me to acknowledge one good thing about the whole hormonal schemozzle: I do rather enjoy the surge in libido in the 2 weeks or so prior to getting my period. They don't teach you that one in sex ed...