So I was minding my own business, driving by myself on the way home from the grocery store, enjoying the silence, when I happened to notice the enormous, self-promoting decal on the windshield of the van in front of me.
It said something about celebrating “going from a girl to a woman,” which was, obviously, an attention grabber, right there. Then a website address for MenarcheParty.com… I thought. I couldn’t remember the exact address, but I remembered MENARCHE and PARTY. I had no clue what a menarche was, but using my super sleuth skills in context clues, I had a pretty big hunch what I was going to find when I typed the two into Google at home.
And yes. I was correct.
This vehicle was advertising their services for helping you throw a party for a girl who got her first period.
Did you just die a little? I know, RIGHT??!! I had no idea whether to laugh or cringe or stare in amazement when I brought up the website.
People, there are party supplies:
And games… Oh, the games…
As bad as Pin The Ovaries on the Uterus looks, I have NO desire to know what the “Puberty Marshmallow Game” is or how one wins at it.
The website even offers “puberty cards” with messages like: Life’s A Cycle, and You’re An Everblooming Rose. (And no, I can’t type that with a straight face.)
I’m a woman, a mother, a lady fully okay with her lady parts and all the natural things they do. I’m not squeamish about periods, and I don’t think young girls should be ashamed of them. I get that there’s something to be said for being “proud” of… becoming a woman???
But, I am not so far removed from my own Menarche to not have vivid memories of how I felt at the time (and now I will try to incorporate that word into my daily vocabulary to make it as hilariously awkward for those around me as possible). I didn’t even want my mom to recognize the fact that I was having a period, okay. I mean, she mentioned that she told my dad that I had started, after she SWORE SHE WOULDN’T TELL ANYONE, and I am pretty sure (no, seriously) that I threw a butter knife at her.
What? HORMONES.
If my mom tried to throw me a PARTY?! There would have been blood… from places and people other than the obvious.
Could you imagine if someone threw her daughter a SURPRISE Menarche Party and invited all her friends? Folks, THAT is basically the perfect punishment for the daughter who tried to kill you in your sleep that one time.
I don’t know, maybe I’m not being “open” and “accepting” and “positive” enough about this whole thing, but seriously, really, can any of you tell me YOU would have wanted a party like that when you got your first period?