Something Is Not Right

 Warning: This story is of a personal nature about women's health.

"Something is not right." Miss Clavel says one night after putting twelve little girls in two straight lines to bed. 

I had a similar epiphany one summer day, when I was seventeen or eighteen. I left a family barbecue in my mother's car, because I desperately wanted to go swimming but had suddenly gotten my period. 

I remember telling myself I'd just go home and get a tampon. Something I'd never used before. But I was adamant this time that I wouldn't miss out on the fun. 

My period had a habit of rearing it's ugly head at every important event. Birthdays, parties, Easter, Christmas and my only thought at the time was that it was stress induced.

When I got home, I tried to insert it, but couldn't. I tried a few times more times. Met with resistance and a lot of pain, I knew something wasn't right, but with no real understanding of my own anatomy, I was just confused.

When my mother called to ask where I was and if I was heading back, I told her about my problem. Unsure how to help, she passed the phone on to my aunt, who tried her best to explain to me. But even then it made no difference. I just couldn't do it. 

The confusion and fear that washed over me was  palpable that day. I continued to hide it for a long time, unsure how to tell you anyone, unsure what was wrong with me.