Moms/Daughters and While Sweat Pants Conversations

Let's talk. How did you react the first time you got your big ole period? I know you remember. I bet you could tell me where you were at the time? Who was with you? How old you were? If you are anything like me, I bet you even know what you were wearing. (WHITE sweat pants, thank you very much.)

However, I am more interested in how you felt? What was the reaction, down in your gut, when you first realized what was happening?

I can tell you mine.

FUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK

When I tell you that I wanted to transport myself to another world, another time, another galaxy….I am not exaggerating. I wanted no part of this shit. My body changing, boobs growing, legs that needed shaving, t-zone skin, hormones……they were my nemesis. I resisted with every ounce of who I was at the time.

I remember having friends who actually, to my utter disbelief, enjoyed every minute of becoming this womanly goddess like thing. They delighted in conversations about bras and took surveys about what kind of maxi pads were best. I really just didn’t get it. It seemed so foreign. I mean, what the hell was there to enjoy about bras and getting hairy?! Um, ew. BUT……if I get under all my dramatic hoopla of hating change, I can admit that I wanted what they had. I watched and longed for their sense of excitement combined with peace around their bodies. It just felt way too far away for me to reach.

So why? Why was I so resistant and why did they celebrate?

Well, for one, we are all different. Duh. Obvious answer. I mean I look at my 2 older daughters and while my older one practically does a tuck and roll when we pass the tampon aisle at Target my younger one boldly and loudly asks, yet again, when she can get a box of her own. This is just part of who they are.

However, I believe there is more here. My gut reaction was one of disgust, not a simple discomfort. I went on to struggle with my body through every phase of growing up and change. I went on to travel more and more under my self imposed rock of shame and to battle and eating disorder. I continued to resist my body. I became more and more detached. I was disconnected.

With understanding that this, of course, would not be true for every girl who gets grossed out by the idea of a monthly cycle, I also believe there is something to be said for how we embrace this skin covered case we carry our souls around in. Young girls are setting some serious ground work for how they build a life long relationship with themselves. This is THE most important relationship of our lives ladies. This will effect how they, we, relate to………everything.

So my next question, how did your mother talk to you about your body? Or, if you didn't have any sort of convo here, how did you learn about the changes your body was going through?

I come from a long line of an “It is what it is, just deal, move on and don’t talk about it or at least talk as little as possible about it” brand of dealing. Now, my mother worked very hard at doing a better job at this talk then her mother did. My grandmother didn’t even mention it. She just sent my mother away to Girl Scout camp, at age 11, with maxi pads in her suitcase. It was a “just in case” kind of thing. It must be mentioned that maxi pads at this time required a freaking belt! My poor mother was sent away with a freaking bondage device and was terrified when she opened her bag. She had no idea what it was or why it was in her luggage. Can you imagine?!

So my mother committed to doing her absolute best to be open and she did a seriously awesome job with the knowledge she had. When I got my period, I knew exactly what was happening. I got the biological details at a young age and understood the “why” of it all. Did this help? For sure. No doubt about it. However, my issue was less about the biology and more about change. Period.

Now, as I sit and write this in my full-fledged woman’s body, I can say that I am just learning how to embrace the beauty of what being this sort of goddess means.

I am a mom to three little girls now. These are three little girls who will go through puberty…boobs, periods, shaved legs, t-zone and all. I had visions of myself being all mother earthy, a womanly fairy type that would dance under the moon with them celebrating their entrance into womanhood. Well, maybe not that much, but I at least thought I would be somewhat cool about it. Then…my oldest turned 11. She became aware of her changing body and began looking at me for some explanation or maybe her next move …or something. She was looking at me for something! Now I can recognize what she was looking for was asimple love and understanding. I totally fumbled, flaked, and freaked. Instead of being a mom who was all guided by the intuition of a deep mother earth instinct, I fell back on a knee jerk reaction. The same as that 12 year old little girl in St. Barnabas bathroom with white sweat pants on under her school uniform that had to where a diaper sized maxi pad she got from the very unsympathetic school nurse. I panicked. I have been looking at my little girl this past year and wanting to just yell STOP! I have gone so far as to talk to God saying things like. “DUDE! Seriously. You know how hard this was for me the first time around. Couldn’t you throw me a bone and have her be a later bloomer, like 32 or something?!?!” I have just wanted to make it stop. It almost hurt. I found myself wanting to avoid rather then embrace like I thought I would. And she hasn't even gotten her period yet!

I am not ready. I don't want this yet. I don't have the right words. I can't handle this.

I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I. I.

Um…. HELOO MCFLY?!?! Good God. Who is this about?!

I know I am not alone. I have been talking to friends, other moms of girls, and there seems to be an overwhelming fear, worry, and self-doubt when it comes to guiding our girls through this unavoidable, monumental, powerful, and pretty damn beautiful time of their lives.

Here’s the deal. I am not attempting to provide “the way” in this post. I don’t have a magical answer. I am still in the trenches over here. I’m still questioning, exploring, and learning from my mistakes.

My intention with writing and sharing this is to start (or continue) a deeper conversation between us mamas and our girls. There is powerful stuff here ladies. It’s time to heal ourselves so we can shine a path for these bright beauties we are raising.

I am going to share 5 things I have learned in this brief, yet powerful, time in our girly lives over here. Of course, there is more to it like books to read and all that jazz and, of course, it could be simplified. This is just what I believe to be true for me and my girls.

1. All my crap coming up? All my fear, worries, disconnect, even shame?……it’s my shit. Yup. Has nothing to do with my kid. It’s the stuff I need to work through and NOT put on my girls.

2. So, let's go do just that. Work on our shit, that is. This is an incredible opportunity to big forth healing. Make sure you are practicing self love on a, no joke, daily basis. This is the singly THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU CAN DO FOR YOU KID. She is learning how to love and embrace her body from watching YOU. Love whatcha got ladies.

3. LOVE on her. Listen to her. Hug her. Hold her hand. Tuck her in. Rub her back as she falls asleep. Kiss her forehead. Remind her, all the time, that she is loved for being exactly who she is in this moment and always. Tell her how normal she is and how brilliantly unique she is.

4. Hang with her. Weather it be reading a book, having a discussion, bra shopping, tampon explaining, skin washing….make it fun. This is when you get to share your stories with her. Let's be human beings for crying out loud. Be vulnerable and watch the light that shines between you both grow like crazy. FYI, you are the one bringing the awkward. So lighten the heck up!

5. Mark this incredible change. Don't rush it, avoid it, or make it a "not a big deal" sort of thing. It's a huge deal. Go for a long walk, have a private ritual or ceremony, dace under the moon if that's your thing, or share a frozen yogurt….whatever works for you guys, just be sure to CELEBRATE that little light of a daughter you have.

I, for one, am taking some time to love that 12-year-old white sweat pants wearing little girl. As I send her love, my heart opens and space is created.

Lastly, let’s lean on and celebrate one another. Let’s make supporting women and daughters everywhere, a high ass priority people. We need each other. Here’s to the opportunity we have to witness the next generation of women and girls deeply loving themselves and lighting up the world. The badass feminine beauty in me bows to the badass feminine beauty in you. Namaste :)